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WORKS 


OF 


LORD    BYRON. 


VOL.  XVL 


I^ONnoN : 

Printed  by  A.  &  R.  Sr)ottiiwoo<le, 

Xew-Street-Square 


'Ciii):(,®cgiMm. 


-lid'lu/ti^  by  Jolvi  Murray  Mbmiurti-y  StrcYi  //vA'* 


WORKS 

OF 

1.0KB    BTKOH. 

VOL. XVI. 


presented 
to 

Zbc  Xtbrar? 

of 

TUnivermt?  College 

TllniPerefts  ot  Toronto 

professor  HltreD  Bahcx 
5amiar^  15,  1941 


THE 


WORKS 


LORD     BYRON 


HIS  LETTERS  AND  JOURNALS, 
AND    HIS   LIFE, 

BY  THOMAS  MOORE,  ESQ. 


VOL.  XVI. 


LONDON: 

JOHN    MURRAY,    ALBEMARLE    STREET. 

1833. 


1063351 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


This  Volume  contains  the  fourth  and  fifth 
Cantos  of  Don  Juan,  written  at  Ravenna,  in 
1821 ;  and  the  sixth,  seventh,  eighth,  ninth,  and 
tenth,  all  written  at  Pisa,  in  1822  and  1823. 

Lord  Byron's  temporary  suspension  of  this 
Poem  when  he  had  finished  Canto  the  fifth, 
and  the  circumstances  under  which  he  resumed 
a  very  favourite  plan,  twelve  months  afterwards, 
are  explained  in  the  note  introductory  to  the 
sixth  Canto. 

The  extracts  now  appended  to  the  siege,  in 
Cantos  VII.  and  VIII.,  will,  it  is  presumed, 
interest,  and  perhaps  surprise  many  readers. 
It  will  be  seen  that,  throughout  this  powerful 
picture,  the  Poet  has  relied  on  a  literal  transcript 
of  recorded  facts,  with  precisely  the  same  feel- 
ings which  had  produced  the  terrible  verisi- 
militude of  his  shipwreck  in  Canto  II.;  and 
it  must  please  every  one  to  know  that  those 
traits   of  graceful   humanity,  with   which   Don 


VI  ADVERTISEMENT. 

Juan's  personal  conduct  is  made  to  relieve  the 
horrors  of  a  Russian  sack,  are  only  a  faithful 
copy  of  what  was  done,  in  the  moment  of  victory 
at  Ismail,  by  a  real  "  preux  chevalier,"  the 
Duke  of  Richelieu. 

London,  March  15.  1833. 


CONTENTS   OF    VOL.  XVI. 


Page 
DON  JUAX.      Canto  IV.  -  _  ^1 

DON   JUAN.      Canto  V.  .  -  -       57 


Appindix  to  Canto  V. 


120 


DON    JUAN.      Canto  VI.  -  .  .     125 

Preface  to  Cantos  VI.    VII.   and  VIII.  .     127 

DON    JUAN.      Canto  VII.  -  .  -     175 


-     21 


DON    JUAN.      Canto  VIII. 

DON   JUAN.     Canto  IX.  -  .  _     267 

DON   JUAN.     Canto  X.  -  .  .     30I 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO    THE    FOURTH. 


VOL.  XVI 


[Canto  III.  originally  included  almost  all  the  stanzas  which 
now  form  Canto  IV.  Cantos  III.,  IV.,  and  V.  were  pub- 
lished together,  in  8vo.,  in  August,  1821.  The  following  are 
extracts  from  Lord  Byron's  letters  to  Mr.  Murray :  — 

Bavcnna,  December  4  1819.  —  "  The  third  Canto  of  Don  Juan  is  com- 
pleted, in  about  two  hundred  stanzas  j  very  decent,  I  believe,  but  do  not 
know,  and  it  is  useless  to  discuss." 

December  la  1819.  —"  1  have  finished  the  third  Canto,  but  the  things  I 
have  read  and  heard  discourage  all  further  publication  — at  least  for  the 
present  The  cry  is  up,  and  cant  is  up.  I  should  have  no  objection  to 
return  the  price  of  the  copyright" 

February  7.  1820.  —  "I  have  cut  the  third  Canto  into  two,  because  it 
was  too  long ;  and  I  tell  you  this  beforehand,  because  in  case  of  any  reckon- 
ing between  you  and  me,  these  two  are  only  to  go  for  one,  as  this  was  the 
original  form,  and,  in  fact,  the  two  together  are  not  longer  than  one  of  the 
first :  so  remember  that  I  have  not  made  this  division  to  double  upon  you. 
—  1  have  not  yet  sent  off  the  Cantos,  and  have  some  doubt  whether  they 
ought  to  be  published,  for  they  have  not  the  spirit  of  the  first  The  outcry 
has  not  frightened  but  it  has  hurt  me,  and  I  have  not  written  con  amore 
this  time" 

October  12.  1820.—"  I  don't  feel  inclined  to  care  further  about  Don 
Juan.  What  do  you  think  a  very  pretty  Italian  lady  said  to  me  the  other 
day  ?  She  had  read  it  in  the  French,  and  paid  me  some  compliments,  with 
due  DRAWBACKS,  upon  it  I  answered,  that  what  she  said  was  true,  but  that 
I  suspected  it  would  live  longer  than  Childe  Harold.  —  'Ah,  but' (said 
she)  '  /  would  rather  have  the  fame  of  Childe  Harold  for  three  years  than 
am  IMMORTALITY  of  Don  Juan  /'  I'he  truth  is,  that  it  is  too  true,  and  the 
women  Late  many  things  which  strip  off  the  tinsel  of  sentiment ;  and  they 
are  right,  as  it  would  rob  them  of  their  weapons.  I  never  knew  a  woman 
who  did  not  hate  De  Grammont's  Memoirs  for  the  same  reason." 

We  subjoin  a  single  specimen  of  the  contemporary  criticism 
on  Cantos  III.,  IV.,  and  V. 

•*  It  seems  to  have  become  almost  an  axiom  in  the  literary  world,  that 
DOthing  is  so  painful  to  the  sensibilities  of  an  author  as  the  palpable 
neglect  of  his  productions.  From  this  species  of  mortification,  no  poet  has 
ercr,  perhaps,  l)een  more  fully  exempt  than  Lord  Byron.  None  of  his  pub- 
lications have  failed  in  at  least  exciting  a  sufficient  portion  of  general  in. 
terest  and  attention  ;  and  even  those  among  them  which  the  scrutinising 
eye  of  criticism  might  deem  somewhat  unworthy  of  his  powers,  have  never 
compelled  him,  like  many  of  his  poetical  brethren,  to  seek  refuge  from  the 
apathy  and  want  of  discernment  of  contemporaries,  in  the  consoling  anti- 
c'pation  of  posthumous  honours  and  triumphs.  But,  if  we  are  to  infer, 
•■-  ■■:  the  axiom  already  alluded  to,  that  extensive  notoriety  must  be  pleasing 
B    2 


in  the  same  proportion  that  neglect  is  distressing  to  an  author,  then  none 
of  his  lordship's  productions  can  afford  him  so  ample  a  field  for  self-con- 
gratulation as  the  Don  Juan.  Revilers  and  partisans  have  alike  contributed 
to  the  popularity  of  this  singular  work ;  and  the  result  is,  that  scarcely  any 
poem  of  the  present  day  has  been  more  generally  read,  or  its  continuation 
more  eagerly  and  impatiently  awaited.  Its  poetical  merits  have  been  ex- 
tolled to  the  skies  by  its  admirers,  and  the  Priest  and  the  Levite,  though 
they  have  joined  to  anathematise  it,  have  not,  when  they  came  in  its  way, 
'  passed  by  on  the  other  side.' 

"  But  little  progress  is  made  in  the  history  and  adventures  of  the  hero  in 
these  three  additional  cantos.  The  fact  is,  however,  that  nothing  has  ap- 
peared, from  the  beginning,  to  be  farther  from  the  author's  intention,  than 
to  render  his  Don  Juan  any  thing  like  a  regular  narrative.  On  the  con- 
trary, its  general  appearance  tends  strongly  to  remind  us  of  the  learned 
philosopher's  treatise  — '  De  rebus  omnibus  et  quibusdam  aliis.'  And  here 
we  cannot  avoid  remarking,  what  an  admirable  method  those  persons  must 
possess  of  reconciling  contradictions,  who,  in  the  same  breath,  censure  the 
poem  for  its  want  of  plan,  and  impeach  the  writer  of  a  deliberate  design 
against  the  religion  and  government  of  the  country.  His  lordship  has  him- 
self given^what  appears  to  us  a  very  candid  exposition  of  his  motives  — 

'  the  fact  is,  that  I  have  nothing  plann'd. 

Unless  it  were  to  be  a  moment  merry, 
A  novel  word  in  my  vocabulary.' 

Indeed,  the  whole  poem  has  completely  the  appearance  of  being  produced 
in  those  intervals  in  which  an  active  and  powerful  mind,  habitually  engaged 
in  literary  occupation,  relaxes  from  its  more  serious  labours,  and  amuses 
itself  with  comparative  trifling.  Hence  the  narrative  is  interrupted 
by  continual  digressions,  and  the  general  character  of  the  language  is  that 
of  irony  and  sarcastic  humour ;  —  an  apparent  levity,  which,  however,  often 
serves  but  as  a  veil  to  deep  reflection.  Nor  can  the  talent  of  the  master- 
hand  be  always  concealed :  it  involuntarily  betrays  itself  in  the  touches  of 
the  pathetic  and  sublime  which  frequently  present  themselves  in  the  course 
of  the  poem ;  in  the  thoughts  '  too  big  for  utterance,  and  too  deep  £ot 
tears,'  which  are  interspersed  in  various  parts  of  it"—  Campbell.] 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO    THE    FOURTH. 


I. 

Nothing  so  difficult  as  a  beginning 

In  poesy,  unless  perhaps  the  end ; 
For  oftentimes  when  Pegasus  seems  winning 

The  race,  he  sprains  a  wing,  and  down  we  tend, 
Like  Lucifer  when  hurl'd  from  heaven  for  sinning ; 

Our  sin  the  same,  and  hard  as  his  to  mend, 
Being  pride, (')  which  leads  the  mind  to  soar  too  far. 
Till  our  own  weakness  shows  us  what  we  are.  (2) 

II. 
But  Time,  which  brings  all  beings  to  their  level, 

And  sharp  Adversity,  will  teach  at  last 
Man, — and,  as  we  would  hope,  —  perhaps  the  devil, 

That  neither  of  their  intellects  are  vast : 


[—  "  how  gloi  iou8  once  above  thy  sphere, 
Till  Pride  and  worse  Ambition  threw  me  down, 
Warring  in  heaven  against  heaven's  matchless  King." 

Paradise  Lost.'} 

(?)  C "  the  same  sin  that  overthrew  the  angels. 

And  of  all  sina  most  easily  besets 
Mortals  the  nearest  to  the  angelic  nature : 
The  vile  are  only  vain  ;  the  great  are  proud." 

Marino  Faliero.'} 
B   3 


6  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

While  youth's  hot  wishes  in  our  red  veins  revel, 

We  know  not  this — the  blood  flows  on  too  fast; 
But  as  the  torrent  widens  towards  the  ocean, 
We  ponder  deeply  on  each  past  emotion,  (i) 

III. 
As  boy,  I  thought  myself  a  clever  fellow, 

And  wish'd  that  others  held  the  same  opinion  ; 
They  took  it  up  when  my  days  grew  more  mellow, 

And  other  minds  acknowledged  my  dominion : 
Now  my  sere  fancy  "  falls  into  the  yellow 

Leaf,"  (2)  and  Imagination  droops  her  pinion, 
And  the  sad  truth  which  hovers  o'er  my  desk 
Turns  what  was  once  romantic  to  burlesque. 

IV. 

And  if  I  laugh  at  any  mortal  thing, 

'Tis  that  I  may  not  weep ;  and  if  I  weep, 

'Tis  that  our  nature  cannot  always  bring 
Itself  to  apath}^  for  we  must  steep 


(1)  ["  Time  hovers  o'er,  impatient  to  destroy. 

And  shuts  up  all  the  passages  of  joy  : 
In  vain  their  gifts  the  bounteous  seasons  pour. 
The  fruit  autumnal,  and  the  vernal  flow'r ; 
With  listless  eyes  the  dotard  views  the  store. 
He  yiews,  and  wonders  that  they  please  no  more." 

Johnson's  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes. 
"  '  T  is  a  grand  poem— and  so  true  !  —  true  as  the  10th  of  Juvenal  him- 
self. The  lapse  of  ages  changes  all  things  —  time  —  language  —  the  earth 
—  the  bounds  of  the  sea — the  stars  of  the  sky,  and  every  thing  '  about, 
around,  and  underneath '  man,  except  man  himself,  who  has  always  been, 
and  always  will  be,  an  unlucky  rascal  The  infinite  variety  of  lives  con- 
duct but  to  death,  and  the  infinity  of  wishes  lead  but  to  disappointment"  — 
JB.  Diary,  1821.] 

(2)  [ "  my  May  of  life 

Is  fall'n  into  the  sere,  the  yellow  leaf."  —  Macheth.l 


CANTO  lY.  DON    JUAN.  7 

Our  hearts  first  in  the  depths  of  Lethe's  spring, 
Ere  what  we  least  wish  to  behold  will  sleep : 
Thetis  baptized  her  mortal  son  in  Styx;(i) 
A  mortal  mother  would  on  Lethe  fix.  (2) 

V. 

Some  have  accused  me  of  a  strange  design 
Against  the  creed  and  morals  of  the  land,(^) 

And  trace  it  in  this  poem  every  line : 
I  don't  pretend  that  I  quite  understand 

My  own  meaning  when  I  would  be  very  fine ; 
But  the  fact  is  that  I  have  nothing  plann'd. 

Unless  it  were  to  be  a  moment  merry, 

A  novel  word  in  my  vocabulary. 

(1)  [Achilles  is  said  to  have  been  dipped  by  his  mother  in  the  river  Styx, 
to  render  him  invulnerable.] 

(2)  n "  a  slow  and  silent  stream, 

Lethe,  the  river  of  oblivion,  rolls 

Her  watery  labyrinth,  whereof  who  drinks 
Forthwith  his  former  state  and  being  forgets. 
Forgets  both  joy  and  grief,  pleasure  and  pain." 

Paradise  Lost,  b.  vi.] 

(3)  t"  Lord  Byron  is  the  very  Comus  of  poetry,  who,  by  the  bewitching 
airiness  of  his  numbers,  aims  to  turn  the  moral  world  into  a  herd  of 
monsters."  —  Watkins. 

"  Deep  as  Byron  has  dipped  his  pen  into  vice,  he  has  dipped  it  still 

'deeper  into  immorality.     Alas!   he  shines  only  to  mislead —  he  flashes 

only  to  destroy."  —  CoLTON. 

"  In  Don  Juan  he  is  highly  profane ;  but,  in  that  poem,  the  profaneness 

in  keeping  with  all  the  other  qualities,  and  religion  comes  in  for  a  sneer, 

a  burlesque,  only  in  common  with  every  thing  that  is  dear  and  valuable 

to  us  as  moral  and  social  beings."  —  Eel.  Rev. 

"  Dost  thou  aspire,  like  a  Satanic  mind, 
With  vice  to  waste  and  desolate  mankind  ? 
Toward  every  rude  and  dark  and  dismal  deed 
To  sec  them  hurrying  on  with  swifter  speed  ? 
To  make  them,  from  restraint  and  conscience  free. 
Bad  u  tbytdf,  or  worse—  if  such  can  be ?  "  —  CoTrL£.3 

B    4* 


8  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

VI. 

To  the  kind  reader  of  our  sober  clime 
This  way  of  writing  will  appear  exotic ; 

Pulci  was  sire  of  the  half-serious  rhyme, (^) 
Who  sang  when  chivalry  was  more  Quixotic, 

And  revell'd  in  the  fancies  of  the  time,     [despotic ; 
True  knights,  chaste  dames,  huge  giants,  kings 

But  all  these,  save  the  last,  being  obsolete, 

I  chose  a  modern  subject  as  more  meet. 

VII. 

How  I  have  treated  it,  I  do  not  know ; 

Perhaps  no  better  than  they  have  treated  me 
Who  have  imputed  such  designs  as  show 

Not  what  they  saw,  but  what  they  wish'd  to  see : 
But  if  it  gives  them  pleasure,  be  it  so ; 

This  is  a  liberal  age,  and  thoughts  are  free : 
Meantime  Apollo  plucks  me  by  the  ear, 
And  tells  me  to  resume  my  story  here.  (2) 

VIII. 

Young  Juan  and  his  lady-love  were  left 
To  their  own  hearts'  most  sweet  society ; 

Even  Time  the  pitiless  in  sorrow  cleft 

With  his  rude  scythe  such  gentle  bosoms ;  he 

Sigh'd  to  behold  them  of  their  hours  bereft 
Though  foe  to  love ;  and  yet  they  could  not  be 

Meant  to  grow  old,  but  die  in  happy  spring, 

Before  one  charm  or  hope  had  taken  wing. 

(1)  [See  anth.  Vol  XI.  p.  187.] 

(2)  ["  Cum  canerem  reges  et  praelia,  Cynthius  aurem 

Vellit,  et  admonuit"  —  Virg.  Eel.  vL] 


CANTO  IV. 


DON   JUAN.  9 


IX. 

Their  faces  were  not  made  for  wrinkles,  their 
Pure  blood  to  stagnate,  their  great  hearts  to  fail ; 

The  blank  grey  was  not  made  to  blast  their  hair. 
But  like  the  climes  that  know  nor  snow  nor  hail 

They  were  all  summer :  lightning  might  assail 
And  shiver  them  to  ashes,  but  to  trail 

A  long  and  snake-like  life  of  dull  decay 

Was  not  for  them — they  had  too  little  clay. 

X. 

They  were  alone  once  more ;  for  them  to  be 
Thus  was  another  Eden ;  they  were  never 

Weary,  unless  when  separate :  the  tree 

Cut  from  its  forest  root  of  years — the  river 

Damm'd  from  its  fountain  —  the  child  from  the  knee 
And  breast  maternal  wean'd  at  once  for  ever,  — 

Would  wither  less  than  these  two  torn  apart  ;(i) 

Alas !  there  is  no  instinct  like  the  heart — 

XI. 

The  heart — which  may  be  broken :  happy  they  I 
Thrice  fortunate  !  who  of  that  fragile  mould. 

The  precious  porcelain  of  human  clay. 

Break  with  the  first  fall :  they  can  ne'er  behold 

The  long  year  link'd  with  heavy  day  on  day, 
And  all  which  must  be  borne,  and  never  told ; 

While  life's  strange  principle  will  often  lie 

Deepest  in  those  who  long  the  most  to  die. 

(1)  [MS.— "  fVom  its  mother's  knee 

When  its  last  weaning  draught  is  drain'd  for  ever,* 
The  child  divided  —  it  were  less  to  see, 
Than  these  two  from  each  other  torn  apart  "J 


10  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

XII. 

"  Whom  the  gods  love   die   young,"  was  said  of 
yore,(') 

And  many  deaths  do  they  escape  by  this : 
The  death  of  friends,  and  that  which  slays  even 
more — 

The  death  of  friendship,  love,  youth,  all  that  is. 
Except  mere  breath;  and  since  the  silent  shore 

Awaits  at  last  even  those  who  longest  miss 
The  old  archer's  shafts,  perhaps  the  early  grave 
Which  men  weep  over  may  be  meant  to  save.  (2) 

XIII. 

Haidee  and  Juan  thought  not  of  the  dead,    [them : 
The  heavens,  and  earth,  and  air,  seem'd  made  for 

They  found  no  fault  with  Time,  save  that  he  fled ; 
They  saw  not  in  themselves  aught  to  condemn : 

Each  was  the  other's  mirror,  and  but  read 
Joy  sparkling  in  their  dark  eyes  like  a  gem, 

And  knew  such  brightness  was  but  the  reflection 

Of  their  exchanging  glances  of  atfection. 

XIV. 

The  gentle  pressure,  and  the  thrilling  touch. 
The  least  glance  better  understood  than  words, 

Which  still  said  all,  and  ne'er  could  say  too  much ; 
A  language,  too,  but  like  to  that  of  birds, 

Known  but  to  them,  at  least  appearing  such 
As  but  to  lovers  a  true  sense  affords ; 

Sweet  playful  phrases,  which  would  seem  absurd 

To  those  who  have  ceased  to  hear  such,orne'er  heard: 

(1)  See  Herodotus. 

(2)  I"  The  less  of  this  cold  wqrld,  the  more  of  Heaven."  —  ManAN.] 


.  ANTO  IV.  DON   JUAN.  11 

XV. 

All  these  were  theirs,  for  they  were  children  still, 
And  children  still  they  should  have  ever  been  ; 

They  were  not  made  in  the  real  world  to  fill 
A  busy  character  in  the  dull  scene. 

But  like  two  beings  born  from  out  a  rill, 
A  nymph  and  her  beloved,  all  unseen 

To  pass  their  lives  in  fountains  and  on  flowers, 

And  never  know  the  weight  of  human  hours. 

XVI. 

Moons  changing  had  roU'd  on,  and  changeless  found 
Those  their  bright  rise  had  lighted  to  such  joys 

As  rarely  they  beheld  throughout  their  round  ; 
And  these  were  not  of  the  vain  kind  which  cloys. 

For  theirs  were  buoyant  spirits,  never  bound 

By  the  mere  senses ;  and  that  which  destroys  (J) 

Most  love,  possession,  unto  them  appear'd 

A  thing  which  each  endearment  more  endear'd. 

XVII. 

Oh  beautiful  I  and  rare  as  beautiful ! 

But  theirs  was  love  in  which  the  mind  delights 
To  lose  itself,  when  the  old  world  grows  dull. 

And  we  are  sick  of  its  hack  sounds  and  sights. 
Intrigues,  adventures  of  the  common  school. 

Its  petty  passions,  marriages,  and  flights, 
Where  Hymen's  torch  but  brands  one  strumpet  more, 
Whose  husband  only  knows  her  not  a  wh — re. 

(1)  [M&  —  "  Forthein  were  buoyant  gpirits,  which  would  bound 
'Gainst  common  failings,"  &c.3 


12  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

XVIII. 

Hard  words ;  harsh  truth ;  a  truth  which  many  know. 

Enough. — The  faithful  and  the  fairy  pair, 
Who  never  found  a  single  hour  too  slow, 

What  was  it  made  them  thus  exempt  from  care  ? 
Young  innate  feelings  all  have  felt  below, 

Which  perish  in  the  rest,  but  in  them  were 
Inherent ;  what  we  mortals  call  romantic. 
And  always  envy,  though  we  deem  it  frantic. 

XIX. 

This  is  in  others  a  factitious  state. 

An  opium  dream  (i)  of  too  much  youth  and  reading. 
But  was  in  them  their  nature  or  their  fate : 

No  novels  e'er  had  set  their  young  hearts  bleeding, 
For  Haidee's  knowledge'  was  by  no  means  great, 

And  Juan  was  a  boy  of  saintly  breeding ; 
So  that  there  was  no  reason  for  their  loves 
More  than  for  those  of  nightingales  or  doves. 

XX. 

They  gazed  upon  the  sunset ;  'tis  an  hour 
Dear  unto  all,  but  dearest  to  their  eyes, 

For  it  had  made  them  what  they  were :  the  power 
Of  love  had  first  o'erwhelm'd  them  from  such 
skies, 

When  happiness  had  been  their  only  dower, 
And  twilight  saw  them  link'd  in  passion's  ties ; 

Charm'd  with  each  other,  all  things  charm'd  that 
brought 

The  past  still  welcome  as  the  present  thought. 

(1)  [The  celebrated  "  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium  Eater,"  by  Mr.  De 
Quincey,  had  been  published  shortly  before  this  Canto  was  written.  —  E.3 


''ANTO  IV.  DON   JUAN.  13 

XXI. 

I  know  not  why,  but  in  that  hour  to-night, 
Even  as  they  gazed,  a  sudden  tremor  came, 

And  swept,  as  'twere,  across  their  heart's  delight, 
Like  the  wind  o'er  a  harp-string,  or  a  flame, 

When  one  is  shook  in  sound,  and  one  in  sight ; 
And  thus  some  boding  flash'd  through  either  frame. 

And  call'd  from  Juan's  breast  a  faint  low  sigh, 

While  one  new  tear  arose  in  Haidee's  eye. 

XXII. 

That  large  black  prophet  eye  seem'd  to  dilate 

And  follow  far  the  disappearing  sun, 
As  if  their  last  day  of  a  happy  date  [gone ; 

With  his  broad,  bright,  and  dropping  orb  were 
Juan  gazed  on  her  as  to  ask  his  fate — 

He  felt  a  grief,  but  knowing  cause  for  none, 
His  glance  enquired  of  hers  for  some  excuse 
For  feelings  causeless,  or  at  least  abstruse. 

xxiii. 
She  turn'd  to  him,  and  smiled,  but  in  that  sort 

Which  makes  not  others  smile  ;(^)  then  turn'd  aside: 
Whatever  feeling  shook  her,  it  seem'd  short, 

And  master'd  by  her  wisdom  or  her  pride ; 
When  Juan  spoke,  too  —  it  might  be  in  sport  — 

Of  this  their  mutual  feeling,  she  replied — 
"  If  it  should  be  so, — but — it  cannot  be — 
Or  I  at  least  shall  not  survive  to  see." 

(1)  [**  Seldom  he  smile* ;  and  imiles  in  such  a  sort, 

As  if  he  mock'd  himself,  and  scorn'd  his  spirit. 

That  could  be  mored  to  smile  at  any  thing."  —  Shakspkark.3 


14  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

XXIV. 

Juan  would  question  further,  but  she  press'd 
His  lip  to  hers,  and  silenced  him  with  this. 

And  then  dismiss'd  the  omen  from  her  breast, 
Defying  augury  with  that  fond  kiss ; 

And  no  doubt  of  all  methods  'tis  the  best: 
Some  people  prefer  M'ine  —  'tis  not  amiss; 

I  have  tried  both  ;(i)  so  those  who  would  a  part  take 

May  choose  between  the  headache  and  the  heartache. 


XXV. 

One  of  the  two,  according  to  your  choice. 
Woman  or  wine,  you'll  have  to  undergo; 

Both  maladies  are  taxes  on  our  joys : 

But  which  to  choose,  I  really  hardly  know ; 

And  if  I  had  to  give  a  casting  voice. 

For  both  sides  I  could  many  reasons  show, 

And  then  decide,  without  great  wrong  to  either. 

It  were  much  better  to  have  both  than  neither. 


XXVI. 

Juan  and  Haidee  gazed  upon  each  other 

With  swimming  looks  of  speechless  tenderness, 

Which  mix'd  all  feelings,  friend,  child,  lover,  brother, 
All  that  the  best  can  mingle  and  express 


(1)  j^"  The  effect  of  all  wines  and  spirits  upon  me  is  strange.  It  settles, 
but  it  makes  me  gloomy  —  gloomy  at  the  very  moment  of  their  effect,  and 
not  gay  hardly  ever.  But  it  composes  for  a  time,  though  sullenly.  Swim- 
ming raises  my  spirits,— but  in  general  they  are  low,  and  get  daily  lower. 
That  is  hopeless ;  for  I  do  not  think  I  am  so  much  ennuyd  as  I  was  at 
nineteen."  —  ^.  Biary,  1821.] 


CANTO  IV.  DON    JUAN.  15 

When  two  pure  hearts  are  pour'd  in  one  another, 
And  love  too  much,  and  yet  can  not  love  less ; 
But  almost  sanctify  the  sweet  excess 
By  the  immortal  wish  and  power  to  bless,  (i) 

XXVII. 

Mix'd  in  each  other's  arms,  and  heart  in  heart, 
Why  did  they  not  then  die  ? — they  had  lived  too 
long 

Should  an  hour  come  to  bid  them  breathe  apart ; 
Years  could  but  bring  them  cruel  things  or  wrong; 

The  world  was  not  for  them,  nor  the  world's  art 
For  beings  passionate  as  Sappho's  song; 

Love  was  born  unth  them,  in  them,  so  intense, 

It  was  their  very  spirit — not  a  sense. 

XXVIII. 

They  should  have  lived  together  deep  in  woods, 
Unseen  as  sings  the  nightingale ;(-)  they  were 

Unfit  to  mix  in  these  thick  solitudes 

Call'd   social,   haunts   of  Hate,    and  Vice,    and 
Care:  (3) 


(1)  ["  Learn  by  a  mortal  yearning  to  ascend 

Towards  a  higher  object.    Love  was  given. 
Encouraged,  sanction'd,  chiefly  for  that  end  ; 

For  this  the  passion  to  excess  was  driven  — 
That  self  might  be  annull'd  —  her  bondage  prove 
The  fetters  of  a  dream,  opposed  to  love."  — 

Wordsworth'4  Laodamta.2 

(2)  ["  The  shadowy  desert,  unfrequented  woods, 

1  better  brook  than  flourishing  peopled  towna : 
There  can  I  sit  alone,  unseen  of  any. 
And  to  the  nightingale's  complaining  notes 
Tune  my  distresses,  and  record  my  woes."—- Shakspearb.3 
W  tMflL  —  "  Call'd  social,  where  all  vice  and  hatred  are."] 


16  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

How  lonely  every  freeborn  creature  broods  I 
The  sweetest  song-birds  nestle  in  a  pair ; 
The  eagle  soars  alone  ;  the  gull  and  crow 
Flock  o'er  their  carrion,  just  like  men  below. 

XXIX. 

Now  pillow'd  cheek  to  cheek,  in  loving  sleep, 

Haidee  and  Juan  their  siesta  took, 
A  gentle  slumber,  but  it  was  not  deep, 

For  ever  and  anon  a  something  shook 
Juan,  and  shuddering  o'er  his  frame  would  creep; 

And  Haidee's  sweet  lips  murmur'd  like  a  brook 
A  wordless  music,  and  her  face  so  fair 
Stirr'd  with  her  dream,  as  rose-leaves  with  the  air ;  (') 

XXX. 

Or  as  the  stirring  of  a  deep  clear  stream 
Within  an  Alpine  hollow,  when  the  wind 

Walks  o'er  it,  was  she  shaken  by  the  dream, 
The  mystical  usurper  of  the  mind —  (2) 

(1)  [In  one  of  Wilson's  minor  poems,  "  On  the  Death  of  a  Child"  (1812), 
occurs  this  beautiful  image  :  — 

..."  All  her  innocent  thoughts. 
Like  rose-leaves  scatter'd."  —  E.] 

(2)  ["  "We  are  somewhat  more  than  ourselves  in  our  sleeps,  and  the 
slumber  of  the  body  seems  to  be  but  the  waking  of  the  soul.  It  is  the 
ligation  of  sense,  but  the  liberty  of  reason ;  and  our  waking  conceptions 
do  not  match  the  fancies  of  our  sleeps.  At  my  nativity  my  ascendant  was 
the  watery  sign  of  Scorpius  ;  I  was  born  in  the  planetary  hour  of  Saturn, 
and  I  think  I  have  a  piece  of  that  leaden  planet  in  me.  I  am  no  way 
facetious,  nor  disposed  for  the  mirth  and  galliardise  of  company ;  yet  in 
one  dream  I  can  compose  a  whole  comedy,  behold  the  action,  apprehend 
the  jests,  and  laugh  myself  awake  at  the  conceits  thereof.  Were  my 
memory  as  faithful  as  my  reason  is  then  fruitful,  I  would  never  study  but 
in  my  dreams  ;  and  this  time  also  would  I  choose  for  my  devotions  ;  but 
our  grosser  memories  have  then  so  little  hold  of  our  abstracted  under- 
standings, that  they  forget  the  story,  and  can  only  relate  to  our  awakened 
souls  a  confused  and  broken  tale  of  that  that  has  passed."  —  Sir  Tho.mas 
Browne.] 


CAKTO  IT.  DON    JUAN.  17 

O'erpowering  us  to  be  whate'er  may  seem 

Good  to  the  soul  which  we  no  more  can  bind ; 
Strange  state  of  being !  (for  't  is  still  to  be) 
Senseless  to  feel,  and  with  seal'd  eyes  to  see.(^) 

XXXI. 

She  dream'd  of  being  alone  on  the  sea-shore,  (2) 
Chain'd  to  a  rock ;  she  knew  not  how,  but  stir 

She  could  not  from  the  spot,  and  the  loud  roar 
Grew,  and  each  wave  rose  roughly,  threatening  her ; 


(1)  [MS  —  "  strange  state  of  being !  —  for  't  is  still  to  be  — 

And  who  can  know  all  false  what  then  we  see  ?  "J 

(2)  ["  One  of  the  finest  moral  tales  I  ever  read,  is  an  account  of  a  dream 
in  the  Tatler,  which,  though  it  has  every  appearance  of  a  real  dream,  com- 
prehends a  n  oral  so  sublime  and  so  interesting,  that  I  question  whether 
»ny  man  who  attends  to  it  can  ever  forget  it ;  and,  if  he  remembers,  whe- 
ther he  can  ever  cease  to  be  the  better  for  it  Addison  is  the  author  of  the 
paper  ;  and  1  shall  give  the  story  in  his  own  elegant  words  :  —  •  I  was  once 
in  agonies  of  grief  that  are  unutterable,  and  in  so  great  a  distraction  of 
mind,  that  I  thought  myself  even  out  of  the  possibility  of  receiving  com- 
fort The  occasion  was  as  follows  :  —  When  I  was  a  youth,  in  a  part  of  the 
army  which  was  then  quartered  at  Dover,  I  fell  in  love  with  an  agreeable 
young  woman  of  a  good  family  in  those  parts,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of 
Mcing  my  addresses  kindly  received,  which  occasioned  the  perplexity  I  am 
going  to  relate.  We  were,  in  a  calm  evening,  diverting  ourselves,  on  the 
top  of  a  cliff,  with  the  prospect  of  the  sea ;  and  trifling  away  the  time  in 
•uch  little  fondnesses,  as  are  most  ridiculous  to  people  in  business,  and 
BMMt  agreeable  to  those  in  love.  In  the  midst  of  these  our  innocent  en- 
dsanacnts,  the  snatched  a  paper  of  verses  out  of  my  hand,  and  ran  away 
with  them.  1  was  following  her;  when  on  a  sudden  the  ground,  though 
at  a  considerable  distance  from  the  verge  of  the  precipice,  sunk  under  her, 
and  threw  her  down  from  so  prodigious  a  height,  upon  such  a  range  of 
focki,  as  would  have  dashed  her  into  ten  thousand  pieces,  had  her  body 
been  made  of  adamant  It  is  much  easier  for  my  reader  to  imagine  my 
•tate  of  mind  upon  such  an  occasion,  than  for  mc  to  express  it  I  said  to 
myself,  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  Heaven  to  relieve  me  — when  I  awaked, 
equally  transported  and  astonished,  to  see  myself  drawn  out  of  an  affliction, 
which,  the  very  HMNDCnt  before,  appeared  to  be  altogether  inextricable.' 
—  What  fabia  of  JEtop,  nay  of  Homer,  or  of  Virgil,  conveys  so  fine  a 
moral  ?  Yet  moat  people  have,  if  I  misUke  not,  met  with  such  deliver. 

VOL.  XVI.  C 


18  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

And  o'er  her  upper  lip  they  seem'd  to  pour, 

Until  she  sobb'd  for  breath,  and  soon  they  were 
Foaming  o'er  her  lone  head,  so  fierce  and  high — 
Each  broke  to  drown  her,  yet  she  could  not  die. 

XXXII. 

Anon — she  was  released,  and  then  she  stray'd(') 
O'er  the  sharp  shingles  with  her  bleeding  feet, 

And  stumbled  almost  every  step  she  made ; 
And  something  roU'd  before  her  in  a  sheet. 

Which  she  must  still  pursue  howe'er  afraid : 
'Twas  white  and  indistinct,  nor  stopp'd  to  meet 

Her  glance  nor  grasp,  for  still  she  gazed  and  grasp'd, 

And  ran,  but  it  escaped  her  as  she  clasp'd. 

XXXIII. 

The  dream  changed: — in  a  cave  she  stood,  its  walls 
Were  hung  with  marble  icicles ;  the  work 

Of  ages  on  its  water-fretted  halls,  [and  lurk; 

Where  waves  might  wash,  and  seals  might  breed 

Her  hair  was  dripping,  and  the  very  balls 

Of  her  black  eyes  seem'd  turn'd  to  tears,  and  mirk 

The  sharp  rocks  look'd  below  each  drop  they  caught, 

Which  froze  to  marble  as  it  fell, — she  thought. 


ances  by  means  of  a  dream.  Let  us  not  despise  instruction,  how  mean 
soever  the  vehicle  may  be  that  brings  it.  Even  if  it  be  a  dream,  let  us 
learn  to  profit  by  it  For,  whether  asleep  or  awake,  we  are  equally  the 
care  of  Providence  ;  and  neither  a  dream,  nor  a  waking  thought,  can 
occur  to  us  without  the  permission  of  Him  in  whom  we  live,  and  move, 
and  have  our  being." —  Dr.  Beattie.] 

(1)  [MS.  — "  Anon  —  there  were  no  waters  —  but  she  stray'd 
O'er  the  sharp  shingles,"  &cj 


CANTO  IV.  DON    JUAN.  19 

XXXIV. 

And  wet,  and  cold,  and  lifeless  at  her  feet, 

Pale  as  the  foam  that  froth'd  on  his  dead  brow, 

Which  she  essay'd  in  vain  to  clear,  (how  sweet 
Were  once  her  cares,  how  idle  seem'd  they  now  !) 

Lay  Juan,  nor  could  aught  renew  the  beat 

Of  his  quench'd  heart ;  and  the  sea  dirges  low 

Rang  in  her  sad  ears  like  a  mermaid's  song. 

And  that  brief  dream  (•)  appear'd  a  life  too  long. (2) 


XXXV. 

And  gazing  on  the  dead,  she  thought  his  face 
Faded,  or  alter'd  into  something  new — 

Like  to  her  father's  features,  till  each  trace 
More  like  and  like  to  Lambro's  aspect  grew — 

With  all  his  keen  worn  look  and  Grecian  grace ; 
And  starting,  she  awoke,  and  what  to  view  ? 

Oh  !  Powers  of  Heaven !  what  dark  eye  meets  she 
there  ? 

'Tis — 'tis  her  father's — fix'd  upon  the  pair! 

(1)  [MSu  —  "  And  that  short  dream  contain'd  a  life  too  long."] 

(2)  ["  I  awoke  from  a  dream  —  well!  and  have  not  others  dreamed  ?  — 
Such  a  dream !  —  but  she  did  not  overtake  me.  I  wish  the  dead  would 
re«t,  however.  Ugh  !  how  my  blood  chilled  —  and  I  could  not  wakie  —  and 
_  and  —  heigho ! 

*  Shadows  to  night 
Have  struck  more  terror  in  the  soul  of  Richard, 
Than  could  the  substance  of  ten  thousand, 
AnnM  all  in  proof,*  &c.  ftc. 
I  do  not  like  this  dream, —  I  hate  its  '  foregone  conclusion.*    And  am  I  to 
be  shaken  by  thadowi  t    Ay,  when  they  remind  me  of—  no  matter  —  but, 
if  1  dream  thus  again,  I  will  try  whether  all  sleep  has  the  like  visions. 
Since  I  rose,  I've  been  in  considerable  bodily  pain  also;  but  it  is  gone 
and  over,  and  now,  tike  Lord  Ogleby,  I  am  wound  up  for  the  day."  — J?. 
Journal,  1811] 

c  2 


20  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  IV. 


XXXVI. 

Then  shrieking,  she  arose,  and  shrieking  fell, 
With  joy  and  sorrow,  hope  and  fear,  to  see 

Him  whom  she  deem'd  a  habitant  where  dwell 
The  ocean-buried,  risen  from  death,  to  be 

Perchance  the  death  of  one  she  loved  too  well : 
Dear  as  her  father  had  been  to  Haidee, 

It  was  a  moment  of  that  awful  kind 

I  have  seen  such — but  must  not  call  to  mind.(i) 

XXXVII. 

Up  Juan  sprung  to  Haidee's  bitter  shriek, 
And  caught  her  falling,  and  from  off  the  wall 

Snatch'd  down  his  sabre,  in  hot  haste  to  wreak 
Vengeance  on  him  who  was  the  cause  of  all : 

Then  Lambro,  who  till  now  forbore  to  speak. 
Smiled  scornfully,  and  said,  "  Within  my  call, 

A  thousand  scimitars  await  the  word ;  ('-) 

Put  up,  young  man,  put  up  your  silly  sword." 

XXXVIII. 

And  Haidee  clung  around  him;  "  Juan,  'tis  — 
'Tis  Lambro — 'tis  my  father  I   Kneel  with  me- 

He  will  forgive  us —  yes — it  must  be — yes. 
Oh  !  dearest  father,  in  this  agony 

Of  pleasure  and  of  pain  —  even  while  I  kiss 
Thy  garment's  hem  with  transport,  can  it  be 

That  doubt  should  mingle  with  my  filial  joy  ? 

Deal  with  me  as  thou  wilt,  but  spare  this  boy." 

(1)  CMS.  —  "I  have  seen  such  —  but  they  o'erthrew  my  mind."] 

(2)  [MS.  —  "A  thousand  sharper  sabres  wait  the  word."] 


CANTO  IV.  DON    JUAN.  21 

XXXIX. 

High  and  inscrutable  the  old  man  stood, 

Calm  in  his  voice,  and  calm  within  his  eye — 

Not  always  signs  with  him  of  calmest  mood : 
He  look'd  upon  her,  but  gave  no  reply ; 

Then  turn'd  to  Juan,  in  whose  cheek  the  blood 
Oft  came  and  went,  as  there  resolved  to  die ; 

In  arms,  at  least,  he  stood,  in  act  to  spring 

On  the  first  foe  whom  Lambro's  call  might  bring. 

XL. 

"  Young  man,  your  sword;"  so  Lambro  once  more 
said: 

Juan  replied,  "  Not  while  this  arm  is  free." 
The  old  man's  cheek  grew  pale,  but  not  with  dread, 

And  drawing  from  his  belt  a  pistol,  he 
Replied,  "  Your  blood  be  then  on  your  own  head," 

Then  look'd  close  at  the  flint,  as  if  to  see 
'Twas  fresh — for  he  had  lately  used  the  lock — 
And  next  proceeded  quietly  to  cock. 

XLI. 

It  has  a  strange  quick  jar  upon  the  ear, 
That  cocking  of  a  pistol,  when  you  know 

A  moment  more  will  bring  the  sight  to  bear 
Upon  your  person,  twelve  yards  off,  or  so ; 

A  gentlemanly  distance,  not  too  near. 
If  you  have  got  a  former  friend  for  foe ; 

But  after  being  fired  at  once  or  twice, 

The  ear  becomes  more  Irish,  and  less  nice. 


c  3 


22  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  IV. 


XLII. 

Lambro  presented,  and  one  instant  more 

Had  stopp'd  this  Canto,  and  Don  Juan's  breath, 

When  Haidee  threw  herself  her  boy  before  ; 

Stern  as  her  sire :  "  On  me,"  she  cried,  "  let  death 

Descend — the  fault  is  mine ;  this  fatal  shore 

He  found — but  sought  not,     I  have  pledged  my 

I  love  him — I  will  die  with  him  :  I  knew       [faith  ; 

Your  nature's  firmness — know  your  daughter's  too." 

xLiir. 
A  minute  past,  and  she  had  been  all  tears,  (^) 

And  tenderness,  and  infancy ;  but  now 
She  stood  as  one  who  champion'd  human  fears  — 

Pale,  statue-like,  and  stern,  she  woo'd  the  blow ; 
And  tall  beyond  her  sex,  and  their  compeers, 

She  drew  up  to  her  height,  as  if  to  show 
A  fairer  mark ;  and  with  a  fix'd  eye  scann'd 
Her  father's  face — but  never  stopp'd  his  hand. 

XL  IV. 

He  gazed  on  her,  and  she  on  him ;  't  was  strange 
How  like  they  look'd !  the  expression  was  the 

Serenely  savage,  with  a  little  change  [same ; 

In  the  large  dark  eye's  mutual-darted  flame ; 

For  she,  too,  was  as  one  who  could  avenge, 
If  cause  should  be — a  lioness,  though  tame, 

Her  father's  blood  before  her  father's  face 

Boil'd  up,  and  proved  her  truly  of  his  race. 

(1)  [MS.  —  "  But  a  few  moments  —  she  had  been  all  tears."] 


CANTO  IV,  DON   JUAN.  23 

XLV. 

I  said  they  were  alike,  their  features  and 

Their  stature,  differing  but  in  sex  and  years  ; 

Even  to  the  delicacy  of  their  hand(') 

There  was  resemblance,  such  as  true  blood  wears ; 

And  now  to  see  them,  thus  divided,  stand 
In  fix'd  ferocity,  when  joyous  tears. 

And  sweet  sensations,  should  have  welcomed  both, 

Show  what  the  passions  are  in  their  full  growth. 

XL  VI. 

The  father  ^paused  a  moment,  then  withdrew 
His  weapon,  and  replaced  it ;  but  stood  still. 

And  looking  on  her,  as  to  look  her  through,       [ill; 
"  Not  /,"  he  said,  "  have  sought  this  stranger's 

Not  /  have  made  this  desolation  :  few 

Would  bear  such  outrage,  and  forbear  to  kill ; 

But  I  must  do  my  duty — how  thou  hast 

Done  thine,  the  present  vouches  for  the  past. (2) 

XLVII. 

"  Let  him  disarm ;  or,  by  my  father's  head, 
His  own  shall  roll  before  you  like  a  ball !" 

He  raised  his  whistle,  as  the  word  he  said, 
And  blew,  another  answer'd  to  the  call, 

(1)  [The  reader  will  observe  a  curious  mark  of  propinquity  which  the 
poet  notices,  with  respect  to  the  hands  of  the  father  and  daughter.  Lord 
Byron,  we  tuspcct,  is  indebted  for  the  first  hint  of  this  to  AH  Pacha,  who, 
by  the  bye,  ii  the  original  of  I^mbro ;  for,  when  his  lordship  was  intro. 
duced,  with  bis  friend  Hobhousc,  to  that  agreeablcmannered  tyrant,  the 
▼ixier  said  that  he  knew  he  was  the  Megalos  Anthropos  (i.  e.  the  Great 
Man),  by  the  tmallnets  of  his  ears  and  hands.  —  Galt.] 

\S^  [MS.  —  **  And  if  /  did  my  duty  as  thou  hast. 

This  hour  were  thine,  and  thy  young  minion't  laifj 

c  4j 


24  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  IV. 


And  rushing  in  disorderly,  though  led, 

And  arm'd  from  boot  to  turban,  one  and  all, 
Some  twenty  of  his  train  came,  rank  on  rank ; 
He  gave  the  word, — "  Arrest  or  slay  the  Frank. 


XL  VIII. 

Then,  with  a  sudden  movement,  he  withdrew 

His  daughter  ;  while  compress'd  within  his  clasp, 

'Twixt  her  and  Juan  interposed  the  crew; 
In  vain  she  struggled  in  her  father's  grasp — 

His  arms  were  like  a  serpent's  coil:  then  flew(i) 
Upon  their  prey,  as  darts  an  angry  asp. 

The  file  of  pirates  ;  save  the  foremost,  who 

Had  fallen,  with  his  right  shoulder  half  cut  through.  (2) 


The  second  had  his  cheek  laid  open ;  but 
The  third,  a  wary,  cool  old  sworder,  took 

The  blows  upon  his  cutlass,  and  then  put 
His  own  well  in ;  so  well,  ere  you  could  look. 

His  man  was  floor'd,  and  helpless  at  his  foot,  (•^) 
With  the  blood  running  like  a  little  brook 

From  two  smart  sabre  gashes,  deep  and  red — 

One  on  the  arm,  the  other  on  the  head. 


(1)  [MS.  —  "  He  held  her  like  a  serpent's  folds  :  then  flew 

Upon  her  prey,"  &c.] 

(2)  [MS.  —  "  Received  a  sabre  cut,  his  turban  through."] 

(3)  [MS.  —  "  His  man  was  prostrate,  bleeding  at  his  foot 

"With  blood  running,"  &c.] 


DON    JUAN. 


25 


L. 

And  then  they  bound  him  where  he  fell,  and  bore 
Juan  from  the  apartment :  with  a  sign 

Old  Lambro  bade  them  take  him  to  the  shore, 
^\^lere  lay  some  ships  which  were  to  sail  at  nine.  (^) 

They  laid  him  in  a  boat,  and  plied  the  oar 

Until  they  reach'd  some  galliots,  placed  in  line ; 

On  board  of  one  of  these,  and  under  hatches. 

They  stow'd  him,  with  strict  orders  to  the  watches. 

LI. 

The  world  is  full  of  strange  vicissitudes, 
And  here  was  one  exceedingly  unpleasant : 

A  gentleman  so  rich  in  the  world's  goods. 

Handsome  and  young,  enjoying  all  the  present, 

Just  at  the  very  time  when  he  least  broods 
On  such  a  thing  is  suddenly  to  sea  sent. 

Wounded  and  chain'd,  so  that  he  cannot  move, 

And  all  because  a  lady  fell  in  love. 

LII. 

Here  I  must  leave  him,  for  I  grow  pathetic, 

Moved  by  the  Chinese  nymph  of  tears,  green  tea ! 

Than  whom  Cassandra  was  not  more  prophetic  ; 
For  if  my  pure  libations  exceed  three, 

I  feci  my  heart  become  so  sympathetic. 
That  I  must  have  recourse  to  black  Bohea : 

'Tis  pity  wine  should  be  so  deleterious, 

For  tea  and  coffee  leave  us  much  more  serious, 

(1)  EMS.  —  "  Till  further  orders  ahould  bis  doom  assign."] 


26  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  n 

LIII. 

Unless  when  qualified  with  thee,  Cogniac ! 

Sweet  Naiad  of  the  Phlegethontic  rill ! 
Ah  !  why  the  liver  wilt  thou  thus  attack,  (i) 

And  make,  like  other  nymphs,  thy  lovers  ill  ?  (2) 
I  would  take  refuge  in  weak  punch,  but  rack 

(In  each  sense  of  the  word),  when'er  I  fill 
My  mild  and  midnight  beakers  to  the  brim. 
Wakes  me  next  morning  with  its  synonym. 


LIV. 

I  leave  Don  Juan  for  the  present,  safe — 

Not  sound,  poor  fellow,  but  severely  wounded ; 

Yet  could  his  corporal  pangs  amount  to  half 

Of  those  with  which  his  Haidee's  bosom  bounded ! 

She  was  not  one  to  weep,  and  rave,  and  chafe, 
And  then  give  way,  subdued  because  surrounded ; 

Her  mother  was  a  Moorish  maid,  from  Fez, 

Where  all  is  Eden,  or  a  wilderness. 


(1)  [MS.  —  "  But  thou,  sweet  fury  of  the  fiery  rill ! 

Makest  on  the  liver  a  still  worse  attack ; 
Besides,  thy  price  is  something  dearer  still."] 

(2)  ["  I  have  been  considering  what  can  be  the  reason  why  I  always 
wake  at  a  certain  hour  in  the  morning,  and  always  in  very  bad  spirits  —  I 
may  say,  in  actual  despair  and  despondency,  in  all  respects,  even  of  that 
which  pleased  me  over  night.  In  about  an  hour  or  two  this  goes  off,  and 
I  compose  either  to  sleep  again,  or,  at  least,  to  quiet  In  England,  five 
years  ago,  I  had  the  same  kind  of  hyjwchondria,  but  accompanied  with 
80  violent  a  thirst,  that  I  have  drunk  as  many  as  thirteen  bottles  of  soda, 
water  in  one  night,  after  going  to  bed,  and  been  still  thirsty.  At  present  I 
have  not  the  thirst,  but  the  depression  of  spirits  is  no  less  violent  What 
is  it  ?  —  liver  ?    I  suppose  that  it  is  all  hypochondria."  —  B.  Diary,  1821.] 


CANTO  IV.  DON   JUAN.  27 

LV. 

There  the  large  olive  rains  its  amber  store 

In  marble  fonts  ;  there  grain,  and  flower,  and  fruit, 

Gush  from  the  earth  until  the  land  runs  o'er;(i) 
But  there,  too,  many  a  poison-tree  has  root. 

And  midnight  listens  to  the  lion's  roar. 

And  long,  long  deserts  scorch  the  camel's  foot, 

Or  heaving  whelm  the  helpless  caravan ; 

And  as  the  soil  is,  so  the  heart  of  man. 


LVI. 

Afric  is  all  the  sun's,  and  as  her  earth 

Her  human  clay  is  kindled ;  full  of  power 

For  good  or  evil,  burning  from  its  birth. 

The  Moorish  blood  partakes  the  planet's  hour, 

And  like  the  soil  beneath  it  will  bring  forth  : 
Beauty  and  love  were  Haidee's  mother's  dower ; 

But  her  large  dark  eye  show'd  deep  Passion's  force, 

Though  sleeping  like  a  lion  near  a  source.  (2) 


(1)  C"  At  Fez,  the  houses  of  the  great  and  wealthy  have,  withinside, 
spacious  courts,  adorned  with  sumptuous  galleries,  founts  of  the  finest 
marble,  and  fikh.ponds,  shaded  with  orange,  lemon,  pomegranate,  and  fig 
treet/abounding  with  fruit,  and  ornamented  with  roses,  hyacinths,  jasmine, 
violcu,  and  other  odoriferous  flowers,  emitting  a  delectable  fragrance;  so 
that  it  is  justly  called  a  paradise."  — Jackson'*  Morocco.'} 

(2)  [MS.  — "  Beauty  and  passion  were  the  natural  dower 

Of  Haidee's  mother,  but  her  climate's  force 
Lay  at  her  heart,  though  sleeping  at  the  source." 


Or. 


Or. 


"  But  in  her  large  eye  lay  deep  passion's  force. 
Like  to  a  lion  sleei)ing  by  a  source." 

"  But  in  her  large  eye  lay  deep  passion's  force, 
A*  skefw  a  lion  by  a  river's  source. "J 


28  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

LVII. 

Her  daughter,  temper'd  with  a  milder  ray, 

Like  summer  clouds  all  silvery,  smooth,  and  fair, 

Till  slowly  charged  with  thunder  they  display 
Terror  to  earth,  and  tempest  to  the  air. 

Had  held  till  now  her  soft  and  milky  way ; 
But  overwrought  with  passion  and  despair, 

The  fire  burst  forth  from  her  Numidian  veins. 

Even  as  the  Simoom  Q)  sweeps  the  blasted  plains. 

LVIII. 

The  last  sight  which  she  saw  was  Juan's  gore, 
And  he  himself  o'ermaster'd  and  cut  down  ; 

His  blood  was  running  on  the  very  floor 

Where  late  he  trod,  her  beautiful,  her  own ; 

Thus  much  she  view'd  an  instant  and  no  more, — 
Her  struggles  ceased  with  one  convulsive  groan ; 

On  her  sire's  arm,  which  until  now  scarce  held 

Her  writhing,  fell  she  like  a  cedar  fell'd. 

LIX. 

A  vein  had  burst,  and  her  sweet  lips'  pure  dyes  (2) 
Were  dabbled  with  the  deep  blood  which  ran  o'er  ;(3) 

And  her  head  droop'd  as  when  the  lily  lies        [bore 
O'ercharged  with  rain :  her  summon'd  handmaids 

(1)  [The  sufTocating  blast  of  the  Desert.    See  ante.  Vol.  IX.  p.  159.] 

(2)  [MS.  —  "  The  blood  gush'd  from  her  lips,  and  ears,  and  eyes  : 

Those  eyes,  so  beautiful  —  beheld  no  more."] 

(3)  This  is  no  very  uncommon  effect  of  the  violence  of  conflicting  and 
different  passions.  The  Doge  Francis  Foscari,  on  his  deposition  in  1457, 
hearing  the  bells  of  St  Mark  announce  the  election  of  his  successor, 
"  mourut  subitement  d'une  ht'morragie  causee  par  une  veine  qui  seclata 
dans  sa  poitrine,"  (see  Sismondi  and  Daru,  vols.  i.  and  ii. :  see  also  anti. 


CAVTO  IV.  DON    JUAN.  29 

Their  lady  to  her  couch  with  gushing  eyes ; 

Of  herbs  and  cordials  they  produced  their  store, 
But  she  defied  all  means  they  could  employ, 
Like  one  life  could  not  hold,  nor  death  destroy. 

LX. 

Days  lay  she  in  that  state  unchanged,  though  chill — 
With  nothing  livid,  still  her  lips  were  red ; 

She  had  no  pulse,  but  death  seem'd  absent  still ; 
No  hideous  sign  proclaim'd  her  surely  dead ; 

Corruption  came  not  in  each  mind  to  kill 
All  hope ;  to  look  upon  her  sweet  face  bred 

New  thoughts  of  life,  for  it  seem'd  full  of  soul  — 

She  had  so  much,  earth  could  not  claim  the  whole. 

LXI. 

The  ruling  passion,  such  as  marble  shows 
When  exquisitely  chisell'd,  still  lay  there. 

But  fix'd  as  marble's  unchanged  aspect  throws 
O'er  the  fair  Venus,  but  for  ever  fair;(i) 


\'ol.  XII.  p.  211.)  at  the  age  of  eighty  years,  when  "  Who  would  have 
''ught  the  old  man  had  so  much  blood  in  him  ?"  Before  I  was  sixteen 
>tar»  of  age,  I  was  witness  to  a  melancholy  instance  of  the  same  effect  of 
mixed  paftfiont  upon  a  young  person,  who,  however,  did  not  die  in  conse- 
quence, at  that  time,  but  fell  a  victim  some  years  afterwards  to  a  seizure  of 
r  he  uktat  kind,  arising  from  causes  intimately  connected  with  agitation  of 
and. 

(1)  [See  amti.  Vol.  VIII.  pp.  213.  295.    The  view  of  the  Venus  of  MedicU 
inttanUy  suggests  the  lines  in  the  "  Seasons,"— 

■  '*  With  wild  surprise. 

As  If  to  marble  struck,  devoid  of  sense, 
A  stupid  moment  motionless  she  stood : 
SosUnds  the  sUtue  that  enchants  the  world."  — HoBiioUiiE.] 


so  DON   JUAN.  CANTO 

O'er  the  Laocoon's  all  eternal  throes,  (^) 

And  ever-dying  Gladiator's  air,  (2) 
Their  energy  like  life  forms  all  their  fame. 
Yet  looks  not  life,  for  they  are  still  the  same.(^) 


(1)  C  "  illi  agminecerto, 

Laocoonta  petunt ;  et  primum  parva  duorum 
Corpora  natorum  serpens  amplexus,  uterque 
Implicat,"  &c.  —  ViRG.  J?n.  1.  ii. 

"  their  destin'd  way  they  take. 

And  to  Laocoon  and  his  children  make : 

And  first  around  the  tender  boys  they  wind, 

Then  with  their  sharpen'd  fangs  their  limbs  and  bodies  grind. 

The  wretched  father,  running  to  their  aid 

With  pious  haste,  but  vain,  they  next  invade  : 

Twice  round  his  waist  their  winding  volumes  roU'd, 

And  twice  about  his  gasping  throat  they  fold. 

With  both  his  hands  he  labours  at  the  knots. 

His  holy  fillets  the  blue  venom  blots,"  &c.  — Dryden.  * 

(2)  [See  anti.  Vol.  VIII.  p.  'J49.] 

(3)  [MS.  —  "  Distinct  from  life,  as  being  still  the  same.  "J 


•  ["  The  sublime  mark  of  a  great  soul  shines  forth,  in  all  its  beauty, 
through  those  affecting  expressions  of  pain  and  anguish  that  appear  in  the 
countenance  of  the  famous  Laocoon,  and  diffuse  their  horrors  through  his 
convulsed  members.  The  bitterness  of  his  torment  seems  to  be  imprinted 
on  each  muscle,  and  to  swell  every  nerve;  and  it  is  expressed  with  pecu- 
liar energy,  by  the  contraction  of  the  abdomen  and  all  the  lower  parts  of 
his  body  :  this  expression  is  so  lively,  that  the  attentive  spectator  partakes, 
in  some  measure,  of  the  anguish  it  represents.  The  sufferings  of  the  body 
and  the  elevation  of  the  soul  are  expressed  in  every  member  with  equal 
energy,  and  form  the  most  sublime  contrast  imaginable.  Laocoon  suffers 
it,  but  he  suffers  like  the  Philoctetes  of  Sophocles  ;  his  lamentable  situation 
pierces  the  heart,  but  fills  us,  at  the  same  time,  with  an  ambitious  desire  of 
being  able  to  imitate  his  constancy  and  magnanimity  in  the  pains  and  suf- 
ferings that  may  fall  to  our  lot."  —  Winkelmanx. 

"  In  the  group  of  the  Laocoon,  the  frigid  ecstasies  of  German  criticism 
have  discovered  pity  like  a  vapour  swimming  on  the  father's  eyes ;  he  is 
seen  to  suppress  in  the  groan  for  his  children  the  shriek  for  himself —  his 
nostrils  are  drawn  upward,  to  express  indignation  at  unworthy  sufferings, 
whilst  he  is  said  at  the  same  time  to  implore  celestial  help.  To  these  are 
added  the  winged  effects  of  the  serpent-poison,  the  writhings  of  the  body. 


CANTO  IV.  DON   JUAN.  31 

LXII. 

She  woke  at  length,  but  not  as  sleepers  wake, 
Rather  the  dead,  for  life  seem'd  something  new, 

A  strange  sensation  which  she  must  partake 
Perforce,  since  whatsoever  met  her  view 

Struck  not  on  memory,  though  a  heavy  ache 
Lay  at  her  heart,  whose  earliest  beat  still  true 

Brought  back  the  sense  of  pain  without  the  cause, 

For,  for  a  while,  the  furies  made  a  pause. 


LXIII. 

She  look'd  on  many  a  face  with  vacant  eye. 
On  many  a  token  without  knowing  what ; 

She  saw  them  watch  her  without  asking  why,  (^) 
And  reck'd  not  who  around  her  pillow  sat ; 

Not  speechless,  though  she  spoke  not ;  not  a  sigh 
Reliev'd  her  thoughts  ;  dull  silence  and  quick  chat 

Were  tried  in  vain  by  those  who  served ;  she  gave 

No  sign,  save  breath,  of  having  left  the  grave. 


(1)  [MSl  —  "  She  took  their  medicines  without  asking  why."] 


the  fpamu  of  the  extremities  :  to  the  miraculous  organisation  of  such  ex- 
pression, Agesander,  the  sculptor  of  theLaocoon,  was  too  wise  to  lay  claim. 
His  figure  is  a  class  :  it  characterises  every  beauty  of  virility  verging  on 
age  ;  the  prince,  the  priest,  the  father  are  visible,  but,  absorbed  in  the  man, 
serve  only  to  dignify  the  victim  of  one  great  expression  ;  though  poised  by 
the  artist  for  us,  to  apply  the  compass  to  the  face  of  the  Laocoon  is  to 
measure  the  wave  fluctuating  in  the  storm  :  this  tempestuous  front,  this 
contracted  nose,  the  immersion  of  these  eyes,  and,  above  all,  that  long- 
drawn  mouth,  are,  sef>aratc  and  united,  seats  of  convulsion,  features  of 
nature,  struggling  within  the  jaws  of  death."  ~  Fusell] 


32  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  IV. 


LXIV. 

Her  handmaids  tended,  but  she  heeded  not ; 

Her  father  watch 'd,  she  turn'd  her  eyes  away ; 
She  recognised  no  being,  and  no  spot 

However  dear  or  cherish'd  in  their  day  ; 
They  changed  from  room  to  room,  but  all  forgot, 

Gentle,  but  without  memory  she  lay ;  [ing 

At  length  those  eyes,  which  they  would  fain  be  wean- 
Back  to  old  thoughts,  wax'd  full  of  fearful  meaning. 

LXV. 

And  then  a  slave  bethought  her  of  a  harp  ;(^) 
The  harper  came,  and  tuned  his  instrument ; 

At  the  first  notes,  irregular  and  sharp. 
On  him  her  flashing  eyes  a  moment  bent. 

Then  to  the  wall  she  turn'd  as  if  to  warp 

Her  thoughts  from  sorrow  through  her  heart  re- 

And  he  begun  a  long  low  island  song  [sent ; 

Of  ancient  days,  ere  tyranny  grew  strong. 

LXVI. 

Anon  her  thin  wan  fingers  beat  the  wall 

In  time  to  his  old  tune  ;  he  changed  the  theme. 

And  sung  of  love  ;  the  fierce  name  struck  through  all 
Her  recollection  ;  on  her  flash'd  the  dream 

Of  what  she  was,  and  is,  if  ye  could  call 
To  be  so  being ;  in  a  gushing  stream 

The  tears  rush'd  forth  from  her  o'erclouded  brain, 

Like  mountain  mists  at  length  dissolved  in  rain. 

(1)  [MS.  —  "  At  last  some  one  bethought  them  of  a  harp.  "J 


CAKloiv.  DON   JUAN.  3S' 

LXVII. 

Short  solace,  vain  relief! — thought  came  too  quick, 
And  whirl'd  her  brain  to  madness ;  she  arose 

As  one  who  ne'er  had  dwelt  among  the  sick, 
And  flew  at  all  she  met,  as  on  her  foes ; 

But  no  one  ever  heard  her  speak  or  shriek. 

Although  her  paroxysm  drew  towards  its  close  ; — 

Hers  was  a  phrensy  which  disdain'd  to  rave, 

Even  when  they  smote  her,  in  the  hope  to  save. 

Lxviir. 
Vet  she  betray 'd  at  times  a  gleam  of  sense ; 

Nothing  could  make  her  meet  her  father's  face. 
Though  on  all  other  things  with  looks  intense 

She  gazed,  but  none  she  ever  could  retrace ; 
Food  she  refused,  and  raiment ;  no  pretence 

Avail'd  for  either  ;  neither  change  of  place. 
Nor  time,  nor  skill,  nor  remedy,  could  give  her 
Senses  to  sleep — the  power  seem'd  gone  for  ever. 

LXIX. 

Twelve  days  and  nights  she  wither'd  thus ;  at  last, 
Without  a  groan,  or  sigh,  or  glance,  to  show 

A  parting  pang,  the  spirit  from  her  past : 

And  they  who  watch'd  her  nearest  could  not  know 

The  very  instant,  till  the  change  that  cast 
Her  sweet  face  into  shadow,  dull  and  slow, 

Glazed  o'er  her  eyes  —  the  beautiful,  the  black — 

Oh  !  to  DossL'ss  such  lustre — and  then  lack  !(') 


(i;  I    .\ini  i.i.  u  ill:  drew  a  dial  from  his  poke, 

And  looking  on  it  with  lack-lustre  eye."  —  As  you  Like  ItJ 

VOL.  XVI.  f  D 


34<  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IV, 

LXX. 

She  died,  but  not  alone ;  she  held  within 
A  second  principle  of  life,  which  might 

Have  dawn'd  a  fair  and  sinless  child  of  sin;(i) 
But  closed  its  little  being  without  light, 

And  went  down  to  the  grave  unborn,  wherein 
Blossom  and  bough  lie  wither 'd  with  one  blight ; 

In  vain  the  dews  of  Heaven  descend  above 

The  bleeding  flower  and  blasted  fruit  of  love. 


LXXI. 

Thus  lived — thus  died  she ;  never  more  on  her 
Shall  sorrow  hght,  or  shame.     She  was  not  made 

Through  years  or  moons  the  inner  weight  to  bear, 
Which  colder  hearts  endure  till  they  are  laid 

By  age  in  earth :  her  days  and  pleasures  were 
Brief,  but  delightful — such  as  had  not  staid 

Long  with  her  destiny  ;  but  she  sleeps  well  (2) 

By  the  sea-shore,  whereon  she  loved  to  dwell.  (3) 

(1)  tMS.  —  "  Have  dawn'd  a  child  of  beauty,  though  of  sin, "3 

!    (2)  [ "  Duncan  is  in  his  grave : 

After  life's  fitful  fever  he  sleeps  well"  —  Macbeth.^ 

(S)  fWe  think  that  few  will  withhold  their  sympathy  from  this  affecting 
catastrophe,  or  refuse  to  drop  a  tear  over  the  fate  of  the  lovely  and  unfor. 
tunate  Haidee,  and  to  bid  her 

"  sleep  well 
By  the  sea-shore,  whereon  she  loved  to  dwell" 

Over  this  charming  creature  the  poet  has  thrown  a  beauty  and  a  fascination, 
which  were  never,  we  think,  surpassed.  In  this,  as  in  the  former  cantos, 
he  pours  out  a  singular  mixture  of  pathos,  doggrel,  wit,  and  satire;  taking 
a  strange  and  almost  malignant  delight  in  dashing  the  laughter  he  has 
raised  with  tears,  and  crossing  his  finest  and  most  affecting  passages  with 
burlesque  ideas,  against  which  no  gravity  is  proof.  —  Campbell.^ 


CANTO  lY.  DON   JUAN.  as 

LXXII. 

That  isle  is  now  all  desolate  and  bare, 

Its  dwellings  down,  its  tenants  pass'd  away ; 

None  but  her  own  and  father's  grave  is  there, 
And  nothing  outward  tells  of  human  clay ; 

Ye  could  not  know  where  lies  a  thing  so  fair, 
No  stone  is  there  to  show,  no  tongue  to  say 

What  was ;  no  dirge,  except  the  hollow  sea's,  (*) 

Mourns  o'er  the  beauty  of  the  Cyclades. 


LXXII  I. 

But  many  a  Greek  maid  in  a  loving  song 
Sighs  o'er  her  name ;  and  many  an  islander 

With  her  sire's  story  makes  the  night  less  long ; 
Valour  was  his,  and  beauty  dwelt  with  her : 

If  she  loved  rashly,  her  life  paid  for  wrong  (2) — 
A  heavy  price  must  all  pay  who  thus  err, 

In  some  shape ;  let  none  think  to  fly  the  danger,  (•^) 

For  soon  or  late  Love  is  his  own  avenger. 

(1)  [MSL  —  "  No  stone  is  there  to  read,  nor  tongue  to  say. 

No  dirge  —  save  when  arise  the  stormy  seas."] 

(2)  [It  will  be  advanced  that  her  amours  are  objectionable,  by  some  fas- 
tidious  critic, 

**  Who  minces  virtue,  and  doth  shake  the  head 
To  hear  of  pleasure's  name."  — 

If  the  lorea  of  Juan  and  Haidee  are  not  pure  and  innocent,  and  dictated 
with  sufficient  delicacy  and  propriety,  the  tender  passion  may  as  well  be 
»arnck  at  onee  out  of  the  list  of  the  poet's  themes.  We  must  shut  our  eyes 
and  bardan  our  hearts  against  the  master. passion  of  our  existence ;  and, 
beooming  mere  creatures  of  hypocrisy  and  form,  charge  even  Milton  him- 
•df  with  folly.  —CAMracLu] 

(3)  [MSl  —  "  They  murt,  and  will,  and  none  can  fly  the  danger. 

For  MOO  or  late  Love,"  &c] 

D    2 


36  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

LXXIV. 

But  let  me  change  this  theme,  which  grows  too  sad, 
And  lay  this  sheet  of  sorrows  on  the  shelf; 

I  don't  much  like  describing  people  mad, 
For  fear  of  seeming  rather  touched  myself — 

Besides,  I've  no  more  on  this  head  to  add; 
And  as  my  Muse  is  a  capricious  elf, 

We'll  put  about,  and  try  another  tack 

With  Juan,  left  half-kill'd  some  stanzas  back. 


LXXV. 

Wounded  and  fetter'd,  "  cabin'd,  cribb'd,'confined,"(') 
Some  days  and  nights  elapsed  before  that  he 

Could  altogether  call  the  past  to  mind ; 
And  when  he  did,  he  found  himself  at  sea, 

Sailing  six  knots  an  hour  before  the  wind ; 
The  shores  of  Ilion  lay  beneath  their  lee — 

Another  time  he  might  have  liked  to  see  'em, 

But  now  was  not  much  pleased  with  Cape  Sigaeum.p) 


(1)  I"  But  now  I  'm  cabin'd,  cribb'd,  confined,  bound  in 

To  saucy  doubts  and  fears."  —  ShakspeareJ 

(2)  [We  had  a  full  view  of  Mount  Ida, 

'  Where' Juno  once  caress'd  her  amorous  Jove, 
And  the  world's  master  lay  subdued  by  love.' 
We  anchored  at  Cape  Janissary,  the  famous  promontory  of  Sigjeum. 
My  curiosity  supplied  me  with  strength  to  climb  to  the  top  of  it,  to  see  the 
place  where  Achilles  was  buried,  and  where  Alexander  ran  naked  round 
his  tomb,  in  honour  of  him  —  which  [no  doubt  was  a  great  comfort  to  his 
ghost  Farther  downward  we  saw  the  promontory  famed  for  the  sepulchre 
of  Ajax.  While  I  reviewed  these  celebrated  fields  and  rivers,  I  admired 
the  exact  geography  of  Homer,  whom  I  had  in  my  hand-  Almast  every 
epithet  he  gives  to  a  mountain  or  plain  is  still  just  for  it;  and  I  spent 
several  hours  here  in  as  agreeable  cogitations  as  ever  Don  Quixote  had 
on  Mount  Montesinos.  —  Lady  M.  W.  Montagu.] 


CANTO  IV.  DON   JUAN.  S7 

LXXVI. 

There,  on  the  green  and  village-cotted  hill,  is 
(Flank'd  by  the  Hellespont,  and  by  the  sea) 

Entorab'd  the  bravest  of  the  brave,  Achilles ; 
They  say  so — (Bryant  says  the  contrary): 

And  further  downward,  tall  and  towering  still,  is(i) 
The  tumulus — of  whom?  Heaven  knows;  'tmay  be 

Patroclus,  Ajax,  or  Protesilaus;(-) 

All  heroes,  who  if  living  still  would  slay  us. 

LXXVI  I. 

High  barrows,  without  marble,  or  a  name, 
A  vast,  untill'd,  and  mountain-skirted  plain. 

And  Ida  in  the  distance,  still  the  same, 
And  old  Scamander,  (if  'tis  he)  remain; 


(1)  [Proceeding  towards  the  east,  and  round  the  bay  distinctly  pointed 
out  by  Strabo,  as  the  harbour  in  which  the  Grecian  fleet  was  stationed,  we 
arrived  at  the  sepulchre  of  Ajax,  upon  the  ancient  Rhstian  promontory. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  objects  to  which  the  attention  of  the 
literary  traveller  can  possibly  be  directed.  In  all  that  remains  of  former 
age«,  1  know  of  nothing  likely  to  affect  the  mind  by  emotions  of  local 
cnthu«ia<m  more  powerfully  than  this  most  interesting  tomb.  It  is  im- 
{louible  to  view  its  sublime  and  simple  form  without  calling  to  mind  the 
Teoeration  so  long  paid  to  it ;  without  picturing  to  the  imagination  a  suc- 
ecMtve  series  of  mariners,  of  kings  and  heroes,  who,  from  the  Hellespont, 
or  by  the  shores  of  Troas  and  Chersonesus,  or  on  the  sepulchre  itself,  poured 
forth  the  tribute  of  their  homage ;  and,  finally,  without  representing  to  the 
mind  the  feelings  of  a  native,  or  of  a  traveller,  in  those  times,  who,  after 
viewing  the  existing  monument,  and  witnessing  the  instances  of  public  and 
of  private  regard  so  constantly  bestowed  upon  it,  should  have  been  told  the 
age  was  to  arrive  when  the  existence  of  Troy,  and  of  the  mighty  dead 
entombed  upon  its  plain,  would  be  considered  as  having  no  foundation  in 
truth.  — Dr.  E.  D.  Clarke.] 

(2)  [The  Troad  U  a  fine  field  for  conjecture  and  snipe.shooting,  and  a 
good  sportsinan  and  an  ingenious  scholar  may  exercise  their  feet  and 
faculties  to  great  advantage  upon  the  spot ;  —or,  if  they  prefer  riding,  lose 
their  way,  m  I  did,  in  a  cursed  quagmire  of  the  Scamander,  who  wriggles 
about  u  if  the  Dardan  virgins  still  offered  their  wonted  tribute.    The  only 

D    3 


S8  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

Tlie  situation  seems  still  form'd  for  fame — 

A  hundred  thousand  men  might  fight  again 
With  ease ;  but  where  I  sought  for  Ilion's  walls. 
The  quiet  sheep  feeds,  and  the  tortoise  crawls ; 

LXXVIII. 

Troops  of  untended  horses;  here  and  there 
Some  little  hamlets,  with  new  names  uncouth  ; 

Some  shepherds,  (unlike  Paris)  led  to  stare 
A  moment  at  the  European  youth 

Whom  to  the  spot  their  school-boy  feelings  bear  ;(i) 
A  Turk,  with  beads  in  hand,  and  pipe  in  mouth, 

Extremely  taken  with  his  own  religion, 

Are  what  I  found  there — but  the  devil  a  Phrygian. 

LXXIX. 

Don  Juan,  here  permitted  to  emerge 

From  his  dull  cabin,  found  himself  a  slave ; 

Forlorn,  and  gazing  on  the  deep  blue  surge, 
O'ershadow'd  there  by  many  a  hero's  grave ; 

Weak  still  with  loss  of  blood,  he  scarce  could  urge 
A  few  brief  questions  ;  and  the  answers  gave 

No  very  satisfactory  information 

About  his  past  or  present  situation. 

vestige  of  Troy,  or  her  destroyers,  are  the  barrows  supposed  to  contain  the 
carcases  of  Achilles,  Antilochus,  Ajax,  &c. ;  but  Mount  Ida  is  still  in  high 
feather,  though  the  shepherds  are  now-a-days  not  much  like  Ganymede.  — 
B.  Letters,  1810.] 

(1)  [Nothing  could  be  more  agreeable  than  our  frequent  rambles.  The 
peasants  of  the  numerous  villages,  whom  we  frequently  encountered 
ploughing  with  their  buffkloes,  or  driving  their  creaking  wicker  cars,  laden 
with  faggots  from  the  mountains,  whether  Greeks  or  Turks,  showed  no  in- 
clination to  interrupt  our  pursuits.  Parties  of  our  crew  might  be  seen 
scattered  over  the  plain,  collecting  the  tortoises  which  swarm  on  the  sides 
of  the  rivulets,  and  are  found  under  every  furze-biish.  —  Hobhouse.] 


CANTO  IV.  DON   JUAN.  39 

LXXX. 

He  saw  some  fellow  captives,  who  appear'd 

To  be  Italians,  as  they  were  in  fact ; 
From  them,  at  least,  their  destiny  he  heard, 

Which  was  an  odd  one ;  a  troop  going  to  act 
In  Sicily — all  singers,  duly  rear'd 

In  their  vocation ;  had  not  been  attack'd 
In  sailing  from  Livorno  by  the  pirate. 
But  sold  by  the  impresario  at  no  high  rate.(i) 

LXXXI. 

By  one  of  these,  the  buffo  (2)  of  the  party, 
Juan  was  told  about  their  curious  case ; 

For  although  destined  to  the  Turkish  mart,  he 
Still  kept  his  spirits  up  —  at  least  his  face ; 

The  little  fellow  really  look'd  quite  hearty. 
And  bore  him  with  some  gaiety  and  grace, 

Showing  a  much  more  reconciled  demeanour 

Than  did  the  prima  donna  (•')  and  the  tenor.  (4) 

(1)  This  is  a  fact  A  few  years  ago  a  man  engaged  a  company  for  some 
foreign  theatre,  embarked  them  at  an  Italian  port,  and  carrying  them  to 
Algiers,  sold  them  all.  One  of  the  women,  returned  from  her  captivity,  I 
■  i-ard  sing,  by  a  strange  coincidence,  in  Rossini's  opera  of  "  L'ltaliana  in 
\  Igieri,"  at  Venice,  in  the  beginning  of  1817.  —  [We  have  reason  to  believe 
that  the  following,  which  we  take  from  the  MS.  journal  of  a  highly  re- 
■pectable  traveller,  is  a  more  correct  account :  "  In  1812,  a  Signor  Guariglia 
induced  several  young  persons  of  both  sexes  —  none  of  them  exceeding 
fifteen  years  of  age  —  to  accompany  him  on  an  operatic  excursion  ;  part 
to  form  the  opera,  and  part  the  ballet.  He  contrived  to  get  them  on 
board  a  vcMel,  which  took  them  to  Janina,  where  he  sold  them  for  the 
baaest  purpoacc  Some  died  from  the  effect  of  the  climate,  and  some  from 
ffufl^ng.  Amoog  the  few  who  returned  were  a  Signor  Molinari,  and  a 
fi-male  daoeer,  named  Bomfiglia,  who  afterwards  became  the  wife  of 
<  refill,  the  tenor  singer.  The  wretch  who  so  ba-sely  sold  them  was,  when 
f-ord  Byron  redded  at  .Venice,  employed  as  capo  de'  vestarj,  or  head 
tailor,  at  the  Fenicc."— Obaiia.%i.] 

(°{\  rnmic  singer' in  the  opera  buffa.  The  Italians,  however,  dlstln- 
^'      ■  ■     •^>  cantante,  which  requires  good  singing,  from  the  buffo 

c  li  there  is  more  acting.] 

.,  ^  i.alc  Bingcr.]  (41  [The  mean  between  bass  and  treble] 

d4. 


40  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  IV. 


LXXXII. 

In  a  few  words  he  told  their  hapless  story, 
Saying,  "  Our  Machiavelian  impresario, 

Making  a  signal  off  softie  promontory, 

Hail'd  a  strange  brig ;  Corpo  di  Caio  Mario  ! 

We  were  transferr'd  on  board  her  in  a  hurry, 
Without  a  single  scudo  of  salario ; 

But  if  the  Sultan  has  a  taste  for  song. 

We  will  revive  our  fortunes  before  long. 

LXXXIII. 

"  The  prima  donna,  though  a  little  old, 

And  haggard  with  a  dissipated  life, 
And  subject,  when  the  house  is  thin,  to  cold. 

Has  some  good  notes ;  and  then  the  tenor's  wife, 
With  no  great  voice,  is  pleasing  to  behold ; 

Last  carnival  she  made  a  deal  of  strife 
By  carrying  off  Count  Cesare  Cicogna 
From  an  old  Roman  princess  at  Bologna. 

LXXXIV. 

"  And  then  there  are  the  dancers ;  there 's  the  Nini, 
With  more  than  one  profession  gains  by  all ; 

Then  there 's  that  laughing  slut  the  Pelegrini, 
She,  too,  was  fortunate  last  carnival. 

And  made  at  least  five  hundred  good  zecchini, 
But  spends  so  fast,  she  has  not  now  a  paul ; 

And  then  there's  the  Grotesca — such  a  dancer! 

Where  men  have  souls  or  bodies  she  must  answer.  (^) 

(1)  [MS.  —  "  If  the  Turks  have  a  soul,  she's  sure  to  answer."] 


CANTO  IV.  DON   JUAN.  41 

LXXXV. 

"  As  for  the  figuranti,(i)  they  are  like 

The  rest  of  all  that  tribe ;  with  here  and  there 

A  pretty  person,  which  perhaps  may  strike, 
The  rest  are  hardly  fitted  for  a  fair ; 

There 's  one,  though  tall  and  stifFer  than  a  pike, 
Yet  has  a  sentimental  kind  of  air 

Which  might  go  far,  but  she  don't  dance  with  vigour ; 

The  more's  the  pity,  with  her  face  and  figure. 

LXXXVI. 

"  As  for  the  men,  they  are  a  middling  set ; 

The  musico  is  but  a  crack'd  old  basin, 
But  being  qualified  in  one  way  yet, 

May  the  seraglio  do  to  set  his  face  in,(-) 
And  as  a  servant  some  preferment  get ; 

His  singing  I  no  further  trust  can  place  in : 
From  all  the  Pope  (^)  makes  yearly  'twould  perplex 
To  find  three  perfect  pipes  of  the  third  sex. 

LXXXVII. 

"  The  tenor's  voice  is  spoilt  by  affectation, 

And  for  the  bass,  (^)  the  beast  can  only  bellow ; 

In  fact,  he  had  no  singing  education. 

An  ignorant,  noteless,  timeless,  tuneless  fellow, 

(1)  [The  figuranti  are  those  dancers  of  a  ballet  who  do  not  dance  singly, 
but  many  together,  and  serve  to  fill  up  the  background  during  the  exhi- 
bition of  individual  performers.  They  corresjwnd  to  the  chorus  in  the 
opera.  —  Graham.] 

(2)  [MS.  —  "  To  help  the  ladies  in  their  dress  and  lacing."] 

(3)  It  is  strange  that  it  should  be  the  Pope  and  the  Sultan,  who  are 
the  chief  encouragcrs  of  this  branch  of  trade  —  women  being  prohibited 
as  singers  at  St  Peter's,  and  not  deemed  trust-worthy  as  guardians  of  the 
harem. 

4)  [The  gravest  and  deepest  of  the  male  voices.  —  Graham.] 


42  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

But  being  the  prima  donna's  near  relation, 

Who  swore  his  voice  was  very  rich  and  mellow,  ^ 
They  hired  him,  though  to  hear  him  you'd  believe 
An  ass  was  practising  recitative. 

LXXXVIII. 

"  'T  would  not  become  myself  to  dwell  upon 

My  own  merits,  and  though  young — I  see,  Sir — you 

Have  got  a  travell'd  air,  which  speaks  you  one 
To  whom  the  opera  is  by  no  means  new : 

You've  heard  of  Raucocanti?(i) — I'm  the  man; 
The  time  may  come  when  you  may  hear  me  too ; 

You  was  not  last  year  at  the  fair  of  Lugo, 

But  next,  when  I'm  engaged  to  sing  there — do  go. 

LXXXIX. 

"  Our  baritone  (2)  I  almost  had  forgot, 
A  pretty  lad,  but  bursting  with  conceit ; 

With  graceful  action,  science  not  a  jot, 

A  voice  of  no  great  compass,  and  not  sweet, 

He  always  is  complaining  of  his  lot. 

Forsooth,  scarce  fit  for  ballads  in  the  street ; 

In  lovers'  parts  his  passion  more  to  breathe. 

Having  no  heart  to  show,  he  shows  his  teeth." 

xc. 
Here  Raucocanti's  eloquent  recital 

Was  interrupted  by  the  pirate  crew, 
Who  came  at  stated  moments  to  invite  all 

The  captives  back  to  their  sad  berths ;  each  threw 

(1)  [Rauco-canti  —  may  be  rendered  by  Hoarse-song.] 

(2)  [A  male  voice,  the  compass  of  which  partakes  of  those  of  the  com- 
mon bass  and  the  tenor,  but  does  not  extend  so  far  downwards  as  the  one, 
nor  to  an  equal  height  with  the  otherj 


CANTO  ir. 


DON   JUAN.  43 


A  rueful  glance  upon  the  waves,  (which  bright  all 

From  the  blue  skies  derived  a  double  blue, 
Dancing  all  free  and  happy  in  the  sun,) 
And  then  went  down  the  hatchway  one  by  one. 

xci. 
They  heard  next  day — that  in  the  Dardanelles, 

Waiting  for  his  Sublimity's  firman. 
The  most  imperative  of  sovereign  spells, 

Which  every  body  does  without  who  can, 
More  to  secure  them  in  their  naval  cells, 

Lady  to  lady,  well  as  man  to  man, 
Were  to  be  chain'd  and  lotted  out  per  couple, 
For  the  slave  market  of  Constantinople. 

XCII. 

It  seems  when  this  allotment  was  made  out. 

There  chanced  to  be  an  odd  male,  and  odd  female, 

Who  (after  some  discussion  and  some  doubt. 
If  the  soprano  might  be  deem'd  to  be  male. 

They  placed  him  o'er  the  women  as  a  scout) 
Were  link'd  together,  and  it  happened  the  male 

Was  Juan,  who, — an  awkward  thing  at  his  age, 

Pair'd  off  with  a  Bacchante  blooming  visage.  (^) 

XCIII. 

With  Raucocanti  lucklessly  was  chain'd 
The  tenor  ;  these  two  hated  with  a  hate 

Found  only  on  the  stage,  and  each  more  pain'd 
With  this  his  tuneful  neighbour  than  his  fate ; 

(1)  [MS.  —  "  Was  fetter'd  to  a  most  enchanting  visage."] 


4:4;  DON   JUAN.  canto  iv. 

Sad  strife  arose,  for  they  were  so  cross-grain'd, 

Instead  of  bearing  up  without  debate, 
That  each  pulFd  different  ways  with  many  an  oath, 
"  Arcades  ambo,"  id  est — blackguards  both.(i) 

xciv. 
Juan's  companion  was  a  Romagnole, 

But  bred  within  the  March  of  old  Ancona, 
With  eyes  that  look'd  into  the  very  soul(^) 

(And  other  chief  points  of  a  "  bella  donna"), 
Briglit  —  and  as  black  and  burning  as  a  coal ; 

And  through  her  clear  brunette  complexion  shone  a 
Great  wish  to  please  —  a  most  attractive  dower, 
Especially  when  added  to  the  power. 

xcv. 
But  all  that  power  was  wasted  upon  him, 

For  sorrow  o'er  each  sense  held  stern  command ; 
Her  eye  might  flash  on  his,  but  found  it  dim; 

And  though  thus  chain'd,  as  natural  her  hand 
Touch'd  his,  nor  that — nor  any  handsome  limb 

(And  she  had  some  not  easy  to  withstand) 
Could  stir  his  pulse,  or  make  his  faith  feel  brittle  ; 
Perhaps  his  recent  wounds  might  help  a  little. 

xcvi. 
No  matter ;  we  should  ne'er  too  much  enquire. 

But  facts  are  facts :  no  knight  could  be  more  true. 
And  firmer  faith  no  ladye-love  desire ; 

We  will  omit  the  proofs,  save  one  or  two : 

(1)  MS.  —  "  That  each  puU'd  different  ways  —  and  waxing  rough. 

Had  cufTd  each  other,  only  for  the  cuff."] 

(2)  QMS.  —  "  With  eyes  that  seem'd  to  look  you  through  the  souL"] 


CANTO  IV.  DON   JUAN.  45 

'Tis  said  no  one  in  hand  "  can  hold  a  fire 

By  thought  of  frosty  Caucasus  ;'*(')  but  few, 
I  really  think ;  yet  Juan's  then  ordeal 
Was  more  triumphant,  and  not  much  less  real. 

XCVII. 

Here  I  might  enter  on  a  chaste  description, 
Having  withstood  temptation  in  my  youth,  (2) 

But  hear  that  several  people  take  exception 
At  the  first  two  books  having  too  much  truth ; 

Therefore  I  '11  make  Don  Juan  leave  the  ship  soon, 
Because  the  publisher  declares,  in  sooth. 

Through  needles'  eyes  it  easier  for  the  camel  is 

To  pass,  than  those  two  cantos  into  families. 

XCVIII. 

'Tis  all  the  same  to  me;  I'm  fond  of  yielding. 
And  therefore  leave  them  to  the  purer  page 

Of  Smollett,  Prior,  Ariosto,  Fielding, 

Who  say  strange  things  for  so  correct  an  age ; 

I  once  had  great  alacrity  in  wielding 
My  pen,  and  liked  poetic  war  to  wage, 

And  recollect  the  time  when  all  this  cant 

Would  have  provoked  remarks  which  now  it  shan't.  (^) 


(1)  I"  Oh,  who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand. 

By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus  ?  "  — 

Shakspeare'«  Richard  II.'}    ' 

(2)  [MS.  —  **  Having  had  some  experience  in  my  youth.  "3 

(3)  [**  Don  Juan  will  be  known,  bt/  and  by,  for  what  it  is  intended  —  a 
•atire  on  abuses  in  the  present  states  of  society,  and  not  an  eulogy  of  vice. 
It  may  be  now  and  then  voluptuous :  —  I  can't  help  that      Arioeto  is 

SmoUett  (aee  Lord  Strutwell  in    Roderick  Random)  ten  timet 
and  Fiddlng  no  better.    No  girl  will  ever  be  seduced  by  reading 
Don  Joan :  —No,  no ;  the  will  go  to  LitUe't  Poems,  and  Rousseau's  Romatu 


46  DON    JUAN.  CANTO 

XCIX. 

As  boys  love  rows,  my  boyhood  liked  a  squabble ; 

But  at  this  hour  I  wish  to  part  in  peace, 
Leaving  such  to  the  literary  rabble, 

^Vhether  my  verse's  fame  be  doom'd  to  cease, 
While  the  right  hand  which  wrote  it  still  is  able, 

Or  of  some  centuries  to  take  a  lease ; 
The  grass  upon  my  grave  will  grow  as  long, 
And  sigh  to  midnight  winds,  but  not  to  song. 


c. 

Of  poets  who  come  down  to  us  through  distance 
Of  time  and  tongues,  the  foster-babes  of  Fame, 

Life  seems  the  smallest  portion  of  existence ; 
Where  twenty  ages  gather  o'er  a  name, 

'Tis  as  a  snowball  which  derives  assistance 
From  every  flake,  and  yet  rolls  on  the  same. 

Even  till  an  iceberg  it  may  chance  to  grow ; 

But,  after  all,  'tis  nothing  but  cold  snow. 


cr. 
And  so  great  names  are  nothing  more  than  nominal, 

And  love  of  glory's  but  an  airy  lust, 
Too  often  in  its  fury  overcoming  all 

Who  would  as  't  were  identify  their  dust 


for  that,  or  even  to  the  immaculate  De  StaeL  They  will  encourage  her, 
and  not  the  Don,  who  laughs  at  that,  and — and — most  other  things.  But 
never  mind  —  Ca  irai  "—  Lord  B.  to  Mr.  Mtirray,  1822  J 


CAKTOlv.  DON   JUAN.  47 

From  out  the  wide  destruction,  which,  entombing  all; 

Leaves  nothing  till  "  the  coming  of  the  just"  — 
Save  change:  I've  stood  upon  Achilles'  tomb,(^) 
And  heard  Troy  doubted ;(-)  time  will  doubt  of  Rome. 


cii. 
Tlie  very  generations  of  the  dead 

Are  swept  away,  and  tomb  inherits  tomb. 
Until  the  memory  of  an  age  is  fled, 

And,  buried,  sinks  beneath  its  offspring's  doom : 

(1)  t"  I  have  stood  upon  the  plain  of  Troy  daily,  for  more  than  a  month, 
in  1810 ;  and  if  any  thing  diminished  my  pleasure,  it  was  that  the  black- 
gaaid  Bryant  had  impugned  its  veracity."  —  B.  Diary,  1821.] 

(2)  [It  seems  hardly  to  admit  of  doubt,  that  the  plain  of  Anatolia, 
watered  by  the  Mender,  and  backed  by  a  mountainous  ridge,  of  which 
Kazdaghy  is  the  summit,  offers  the  precise  territory  alluded  to  by  Homer. 
The  long  controversy,  excited  by  Mr.  Bryant's  publication,  and  since  so 
Tehemently  agitated,  would  probably  never  have  existed,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  erroneous  maps  of  the  country  which,  even  to  this  hour,  disgrace 
our  geographical  knowledge  of  that  part  of  Asia.  —  Dr.  E.  D.  Clarke. 

"  Although  a  real  poet  is  naturally  anxious  to  avail  himself  of  inter. 
ccting  and  well-known  scenery,  and  a  story  hallowed  by  tradition,  yet  it  is 
only  so  far  as  they  suit  his  purpose,  that  either  tradition  or  topography 
will  be  adhered  to :  and  it  is  surely  preposterous  to  expect  that  in  a 
poem,  so  long,  so  varied,  and  so  busy  as  that  of  Homer,  he  should  ex- 
actly conform  to  the  sol)er  rules  of  the  annalist,  or  the  land-surveyor. 
It  was  the  general  opinion  of  antiquity,  that  Homer  had  in  many  respects 
departed  from  the  truth  of  history  in  the  action  of  his  poem.  Nor  can 
any  reason  be  assigned  why  he  should  not,  by  an  equal  privilege,  have 
omitted  or  softened,  or  altere<l,  such  features  of  the  scenery  as  interfered. 
In  his  opinion,  with  the  effect  or  coherence  of  his  narration.  But,  while 
a  poet  bimadr  is  seldom  thus  particular,  it  is  the  privilege  of  poetry 
to  bestow  eren  on  imaginary  scenery,  the  minuteness  and  liveliness 
which  convey  the  idea  of  accuracy,  —  and  if  only  the  general  features  of 
his  picture  are  correct,  the  zeal  of  his  admirers  in  after-ages  will  not  fail 
to  aMign  a  local  habitation  to  even  the  wildest  of  his  features.  The  sexton 
of  Mdrose  has  already  begun  to  point  out  the  tomb  of  Michael  Scott,  as 
4Mcribed  in  the  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel ;  and  though  the  main  outlines 
of  Homer's  picture  are  probably  copied  fVom  nature,  yet  we  doubt  not 
that  many  of  those  objects  to  which  Strabo  refers,  instead  of  affording 


48  DON    JUAN.  CANTO 

Where  are  the  epitaphs  our  fathers  read  ? 

Save  a  few  glean'd  from  the  sepulchral  gloom 
Which  once-named  myriads  nameless  lie  beneath, 
And  lose  their  own  in  universal  death. (i) 


cm. 
I  canter  by  the  spot  each  afternoon 

Where  perish'd  in  his  fame  the  hero-boy, 
Who  lived  too  long  for  men,  but  died  too  soon 

For  human  vanity,  the  young  De  Foix ! 
A  broken  pillar,  not  uncouthly  hewn, 

But  which  neglect  is  hastening  to  destroj^ 
Records  Ravenna's  carnage  on  its  face, 
While  weeds  and  ordure  rankle  round  the  base.  (2) 


subjects  for  the  bard  to  describe,  derived,  in  after-days,  their  name  and 
designation  from  his  description."  —  Bishop  Heber.] 

(1)  \_"  Look  back  who  list  unto  the  former  ages. 

And  call  to  count  what  is  of  them  become, 
"Where  be  those  learned  wits  and  antique  sages 

Which  of  all  wisdom  knew  the  perfect  sum  ? 

Where  those  great  warriors  which  did  overcome 
The  world  with  conquest  of  their  might  and  main. 
And  made  one  mear  of  the  earth  and  of  their  reign."—  SpensekJ 

(2)  The  pillar  which  records  the  battle  of  Ravenna  is  about  two  miles 
from  the  city,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  to  the  road  towards  Forli. 
Gaston  de  Foix,  who  gained  the  battle,  was  killed  in  it :  there  fell  on  both 
sides  twenty  thousand  men.  The  present  state  of  the  pillar  and  its  site  is 
described  in  the  text.  —  [De  Foix  was  Duke  of  Nemours,  and  nephew  to 
Louis  XII.,  who  gave  him  the  government  of  Milan,  and  made  him  gene- 
ral of  his  army  in  Italy.  The  young  hero  signalised  his  valour  and  abilities 
in  various  actions,  which  terminated  in  the  battle  of  Ravenna,  fought  on 
Easter-day,  1512.  After  he  had  obtained  the  victory,  he  could  not  be 
dissuaded  from  pursuing  a  body  of  Spanish  infantry,  which  retreated  in 
good  order.  Making  a  furious  charge  on  this  brave  troop,  he  was  thrown 
from  his  horse,  and  despatched  by  a  thrust  of  a  pike.  He  perished  in  his 
twenty-fourth  year,  and  the  king's  affliction  for  his  death  embittered  all 
the  joy  arising  from  his  success.  —  Moreri.] 


CANTO  IV. 


DON    JUAN.  49 


CIV. 

I  pass  each  day  where  Dante's  bones  are  laid : 
A  little  cupola,  more  neat  than  solemn, 

Protects  his  dust,  but  reverence  here  is  paid(i) 
To   the   bard's   tomb,  (2)  and  not  the  warrior's 
column  : 

The  time  must  come,  when  both  alike  decay'd, 
The  chieftain's  trophy,  and  the  poet's  volume, 

Will  sink  where  lie  the  songs  and  wars  of  earth, 

Before  Pelides'  death,  or  Homer's  birth. 


cv. 
With  human  blood  that  column  was  cemented. 

With  human  filth  that  column  is  defiled. 
As  if  the  peasant's  coarse  contempt  were  vented 

To  show  his  loathing  of  the  spot  he  soil'd :  (^) 
Thus  is  the  trophy  used,  and  thus  lamented 

Should  ever  be  those  blood-hounds,  from  whose  wild 
Instinct  of  gore  and  glory  earth  has  known 
Those  sufferings  Dante  saw  in  hell  alone.  ('*) 


1}  [MS.  —  "  Protects  his  tomb,  but  greater  care  is  paid."] 
-  r Dante  was  buried  ("in  sacra  minorum  aede")  at  Ravenna,  in  a 
haii.l  '-111-  tomb,  whicli  was  erected  by  his  protector,  Guido  da  Polenta, 
restored  by  Bernardo  Bembo  in  1483,  again  restored  by  Cardinal  Corsi, 
in  l&J^J,  and  replaced  by  a  more  magnificent  sepulchre  in  1780,  at  the 
expense  of  the  Cardinal  Luigi  Valent  Gonzaga.  The  Florentines  having 
in  vain  and  frequently  attempted  to  recover  his  body,  crowned  his  image 
in  a  church,  and  his  picture  is  still  one  of  the  idols  of  their  cathedral.  — 

HoBH(.l>K  ] 

L  ^1  ^  —         "  With  human  ordure  is  it  now  defiled. 

As  if  the  peasant's  scorn  this  mode  invented 
To  show  his  loathing  of  the  thing  he  soil'd."] 
(4)  [MS.  —  "  Thoie  sufferings  once  reserved  for  Hell  alone." 
VOL.  XVI.  -j-  i: 


1 


50  DON    JUAN. 


CVI. 

Yet  there  will  still  be  bards :  though  fame  is  smoke, 
Its  fumes  are  frankincense  to  human  thought ; 

And  the  unquiet  feelings,  which  first  woke 
Song  in  the  world,will  seek  what  then  they  sought ;  (^ ) 

As  on  the  beach  the  waves  at  last  are  broke, 

Thus  to  their  extreme  verge  the  passions  brought 

Dash  into  poetry,  (2)  which  is  but  passion, 

Or  at  least  was  so  ere  it  grew  a  fashion. 


&• 


CVII. 

If  in  the  course  of  such  a  life  as  was 
At  once  adventurous  and  contemplative. 

Men  who  partake  all  passions  as  they  pass. 
Acquire  the  deep  and  bitter  power  to  give  (3) 

Their  images  again  as  in  a  glass, 

And  in  such  colours  that  they  seem  to  live ; 

You  may  do  right  forbidding  them  to  show  'em, 

But  spoil  (I  think)  a  very  pretty  poem. 

CVIII. 

Oh  !  ye,  who  make  the  fortunes  of  all  books  I 
Benign  Ceruleans  of  the  second  sex ! 

Who  advertise  new  poems  by  your  looks, 
Your  "  imprimatur"  will  ye  not  annex  ? 


(1)  QMS.  —        "  Its  fumes  are  frankincense ;  and  were  there  nought 

Even  of  this  vapour,  still  the  chilling  yoke 
Of  silence  would  not  long  be  borne  by  Thought"] 

(2)  ["  The  Bride  of  Abydos  "  was  written  in  four  nights,  to  distract  my 
dreams  from  .  .  .  Were  it  not  thus,  it  had  never  been  composed ;  and 
had  I  not  done  something  at  that  time,  I  must  have  gone  mad,  by  eating 
my  own  heart— bitter  diet!  "  —  B.  Diary,  1813.] 

(3)  [MS.  —  "  I  have  drunk  deep  of  passions  as  they  pass, 

And  dearly  bought  the  bitter  power  to  giva"] 


cvyro  IV.  DON  JUAN.  51 

WTiat !  must  I  go  to  the  oblivious  cooks  ?(^) 

Those  Cornish  plunderers  of  Parnassian  wrecks  ? 
Ah  I  must  I  then  the  only  minstrel  be, 
Proscribed  from  tasting  your  Castalian  tea  I  (2) 

cix. 

What !  can  I  prove  "  a  lion"  then  no  more? 

A  ball-room  bard,  a  foolscap,  hot-press  darling  ? 
To  bear  the  compliments  of  many  a  bore, 

And  sigh,  "  I  can't  get  out,"  like  Yorick's  starHng; 
Why  then  I'll  swear,  as  poet  Wordy  swore,  [ing)(3) 

(Because  the  world  won't  read  him,  always  snarl- 
That  taste  is  gone,  that  fame  is  but  a  lottery. 
Drawn  by  the  blue-coat  misses  of  a  coterie.  (^) 

ex. 

Oh  !  "  darkly,  deeply,  beautifully  blue," 

As  some  one  somewhere  sings  about  the  sky, 

And  I,  ye  learned  ladies,  say  of  you ;  [why. 

They  say  your  stockings  are  so — (Heaven  knows 

(1)  C"  To  pastry-cooks  and  moths, '  and  there  an  end.'  "  —  Gifford.] 
(Ji)  [MS.  —  "  What !  must  1  go  with  Wordy  to  the  cooks? 

Read  — were  it  but  your  Grandmother's  to  vex  — 
And  let  me  not  the  only  minstrel  be 
Cut  off  from  tasting  your  Castalian  tea.*'] 

(3)  QMS.  —  "  Why  then  I  '11  swear,  as  mother  Wordsworth  swore, 

Because  the  world  won't  read  her,"  &c.] 

(4)  [**  Aw«y,  then,  with  the  senseless  iteration  of  the  word  popularity ! 
I  n  ererjr  thing  which  is  to  send  the  soul  into  herself,  to  be  admonished  of 

•  r  weaknos,  or  to  be  made  conscious  of  her  strength  ;  wherever  life  and 

iture  arc  described  as  operated  upon  by  the  creative  or  abstracting  virtue 

f  the  imagination ;   wherever  the  instinctive  wisdom  of  antiquity,  and 

r  heroic  passions,  uniting,  in  the  heart  of  the  Poet,  with  the  meditative 

.  of  later  ages,  have  produced  that  accord  of  sublimatetl  humanity, 

^  at  once  a  history  of  the  n-mote  past,  and  a  prophetic  announce- 

.... ,.;  ..;  the  remotest  future  —  Mrrf,  the  I'oct  must  reconcile  himself  for  a 

wason  to  few  and  scattered  hearers."—  WoroswokthV  Second  Pr^ace."} 

E   2 


52  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

I  have  examined  few  pair  of  that  hue) ; 
Blue  as  the  garters  which  serenely  lie 
Round  the  Patrician  left-legs,  which  adorn 
The  festal  midnight,  and  the  levee  morn.(^) 

CXI. 

Yet  some  of  you  are  most  seraphic  creatures  — 
But  times  are  alter'd  since,  a  rhyming  lover, 

You  read  my  stanzas,  and  I  read  your  features : 
And — but  no  matter,  all  those  things  are  over ; 

Still  I  have  no  dislike  to  learned  natures, 

For  sometimes  such  a  world  of  virtues  cover ; 

I  knew  one  woman  of  that  purple  school, 

The  loveliest,  chastest,  best,  but — quite  a  fool. 

CXII. 

Humboldt,  "  the  first  of  travellers,"  but  not 
The  last,  if  late  accounts  be  accurate. 

Invented,  by  some  name  I  have  forgot. 
As  well  as  the  sublime  discovery's  date. 

An  airy  instrument,  with  which  he  sought 
To  ascertain  the  atmospheric  state. 

By  measuring  "  the  intensity  of  blue : "  (2) 

Oh,  Lady  Daphne  !  let  me  measure  you  !  (^) 

(1)  [MS.  — "  Not  having  look"d  at  many  of  that  hue, 

Nor  garters  —  save  those  of  the  '  honi  soil'  —  which  lie 
Round  the  Patrician  legs  which  walk  about. 
The  ornaments  of  levee  and  of  rout."] 

(2)  [The  cyanometer — an  instrument  invented  for  ascertaining  the  in- 
tensity  of  the  blue  colour  of  the  sky.  On  the  summit  of  high  mountains, 
elevated  above  the  grosser  portions  of  the  atmosphere,  it  might  be  curious 
to  compare  experiments  with  those  made  with  the  same  kind  of  instrument 
by  M.  Saussure  on  the  Alps ;  but  it  is  mere  ostentation  to  talk,  as  M.  de 
Humboldt  docs,  of  such  experiments  made  at  sea  with  a  view  of  being 
useful  to  navigation.     We  prefer,  as  more  simple  and  more  correct,  that 


DON    JUAN. 


53 


CXIII. 

But  to  the  narrative . — The  vessel  bound 

With  slaves  to  sell  off  in  the  capital, 
After  the  usual  process,  might  be  found 

At  anchor  under  the  seraglio  wall ; 
Her  cargo,  from  the  plague  being  safe  and  sound, 

Were  landed  in  the  market,  (■^)  one  and  all. 
And  there  with  Georgians,  Russians,  and  Circassians, 
Bought  up  for  different  purposes  and  passions. 


natural  diaphanometer,  which  for  ages  has  regulated  the  prognostics  of 
mariners  —  "  a  great  paleness  of  the  setting  sun,  a  wan  colour,  an  extra- 
ordinary disfiguration  of  iU  disc ; "  though  we  should  be  cautious  in  ad- 
mining  that  these  meteorological  phenomena  are  the  unequivocal  signs 
of  a  tempest  The  marine  barometer  is  far  more  important  to  the  ma- 
finer  than  hygrometers  or  cyanometers.  By  this  instrument  a  change  of 
weather  never  fails  to  be  indicated  by  the  least  rising  or  falling  of  the  mer- 
cury in  the  tube;  the  descent,  in  tropical  latitudes,  of  an  eighth  of  an 
inch,  when  at  a  distance  from  the  land,  is  the  unequivocal  indication  of  an 
approaching  storm.  Many  a  ship  has  been  saved  from  destruction  by  the 
timely  notice  given  by  this  instrument  to  prepare  for  a  storm ;  and  no  ship 
should  be  permitted  to  go  to  sea  without  one.  —  Barrow.] 
(3)  [MS.  —  "  I  '11  back  a  London  '  Bas'  against  Peru." 


Or, 
Or, 


I  '11  bet  some  pair  of  stockings  beat  Peru." 
And  so,  old  Sotheby,  we'll  measure  you."] 


(4)  ["  The  slave-market  is  a  quadrangle,  surrounded  by  a  covered  gal- 
lery,  and  ranges  of  small  and  separate  apartments.  Here  the  poor 
wretches  sit  in  a  melancholy  posture.  Before  they  cheapen  them,  they 
turn  them  about  from  this  side  to  that,  survey  them  from  top  to  bottom, 
put  them  to  exercise  whatever  they  have  learned,  and  this  several  times  a 
day,  without  coming  to  any  agreement  Such  of  them,  both  men  and 
women,  to  whom  dame  Nature  has  been  niggardly  of  her  charms,  are  set 
a|>art  for  the  vilest  purposes ;  hut  such  girls  as  have  youth  and  beauty, 
pass  their  time  well  enough.  The  retailers  of  this  human  ware  are  the 
Jews,  who  take  gofni  care  of  their  slaves'  education,  that  they  may  sell  the 
better  :  their  choicest  they  keep  at  home,  and  there  you  must  go,  if  you 
would  ha\e  hotter  than  ordinary ;  for  it  is  here,  as  in  markets  for  horses, 
the  handsomest  do   not  always  appear,  but  .are  kept  within  doors."  — 

.     UBMEPOBT.] 

E  S 


54}  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  IV. 

CXIV. 

Some  went  off  dearly ;  fifteen  hundred  dollars 
For  one  Circassian,  a  sweet  girl,  were  given. 

Warranted  virgin ;  beauty's  brightest  colours 
Had  deck'd  her  out  in  all  the  hues  of  heaven : 

Her  sale  sent  home  some  disappointed  bawlers, 
Who  bade  on  till  the  hundreds  reach'd  eleven ;  (^) 

But  when  the  offer  Avent  beyond,  they  knew 

'Twas  for  the  Sultan,  and  at  once  withdrew. 

cxv. 
Twelve  negresses  from  Nubia  brought  a  price 

Which  the  West  Indian  market  scarce  would  bring; 
Though  Wilberforce,  at  last,  has  made  it  twice 

What  'twas  ere  Abolition ;  and  the  thing 
Need  not  seem  very  wonderful,  for  vice 

Is  always  much  more  splendid  than  a  king : 
The  virtues,  even  the  most  exalted.  Charity, 
Are  saving — vice  spares  nothing  for  a  rarity. 


(1)  [The  manner  of  purchasing  slaves  is  thus  described  in  the  plain  and 
unaffected  narrative  of  a  German  merchant,  "  which,"  says  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton, "  as  I  have  been  able  to  ascertain  its  general  authenticity,  may  be  re- 
lied upon  as  correct."  The  girls  were  introduced  to  me  one  after  another. 
A  Circassian  maiden,  eighteen  years  old,  was  the  first  who  presented  herself: 
she  was  well-dressed,  and  her  face  was  covered  with  a  veil.  She  advanced 
towards  me,  bowed  down  and  kissed  my  hand  :  by  order  of  her  master  she 
walked  backwards  and  forwards,  to  show  her  shape  and  the  easiness  of  her 
gait  and  carriage.  When  she  took  off  her  veil,  she  displayed  a  bust  of  the  most 
attractive  beauty :  she  rubbed  her  cheeks  with  a  wet  napkin,  to  prove  that 
she  had  not  used  art  to  heighten  her  complexion  ;  and  she  opened  her  in- 
viting lips,  to  show  a  regular  set  of  teeth  of  pearly  whiteness.  I  was 
permitted  to  feel  her  pulse,  that  I  might  be  convinced  of  the  good  state 
of  her  health  and  constitution.  She  was  then  ordered  to  retire  while  we 
deliberated  upon  the  bargain.  The  price  of  this  beautiful  girl  was  four 
thousand  piastres."  —  See  Voyage  de  N.  E.  Kleeman,  and  also  Thornton's 
Turkey,  vol.  ii.  p.  289.] 


CANTO  IV.  DON   JUAN.  55 

CXVI. 

But  for  the  destiny  of  this  young  troop, 

How  some  were  bought  by  pachas,  some  by  Jews, 

How  some  to  burdens  were  obliged  to  stoop. 
And  others  rose  to  the  command  of  crews 

As  renegadoes ;  while  in  hapless  group. 
Hoping  no  very  old  vizier  might  choose. 

The  females  stood,  as  one  by  one  they  pick'd  'em. 

To  make  a  mistress,  or  fourth  wife,  or  victim :  Q) 

CXVII. 

All  this  must  be  reserved  for  further  song ; 

Also  our  hero's  lot,  howe'er  unpleasant 
(Because  this  Canto  has  become  too  long). 

Must  be  postponed  discreetly  for  the  present ; 
I  'm  sensible  redundancy  is  wrong. 

But  could  not  for  the  muse  of  me  put  less  in't: 
And  now  delay  the  progress  of  Don  Juan, 
Till  what  is  call'd  in  Ossian  the  fifth  Duan. 


(1)  [MS.  —  "  The  females  stood,  till  chosen  each  as  victim 
To  the  soft  oath  of  '  Ana  seing  Siktum ! ' " 


s  4 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO    THE    FIFTH. 


58 


[Canto  V.  was  begun  at  Ravenna,  October  the  16th,  and 
finished  November  the  20th,  1S20.  It  was  published,  as  has 
been  already  mentioned,  late  in  1821,  along  with  Cantos  III. 
and  IV. ;  and  here  the  Poet  meant  to  stop  —  for  what  reason, 
the  subjoined  extracts  from  his  letters  will  show  : 

February  16. 1821.  "  The  fifth  is  so  far  from  being  the  last  of  Don  Juan, 
that  it  is  hanlly  the  beginning.  I  meant  to  take  him  the  tour  of  Europe, 
with  a  proper  mixture  of  siege,  battle,  and  adventure,  and  to  make  him 
finish  as  Anacharsis  Cloots,  in  the  French  Revolution.  To  how  many 
cantos  this  may  extend,  I  know  not,  nor  whether  (even  if  I  live)  I  shall 
complete  it ;  but  this  was  my  notion.  I  meant  to  have  made  him  a  Cavalier 
Servente  in  Italy,  and  a  cause  for  a  divorce  in  England,  and  a  sentimental 
*  Werther-faced  man '  in  Germany,  so  as  to  show  the  different  ridicules  of 
the  society  in  each  of  those  countries,  and  to  have  displayed  him  gradually 
gats  and  blasS  as  he  grew  older,  as  is  natural.  But  1  had  not  quite  fixed 
whether  to  make  him  end  in  hell,  or  in  an  unhappy  marriage,  not  knowing 
which  would  be  the  severest:  the  Spanish  tradition  says  hell;  but  it  is 
probably  only  an  allegory  of  the  other  state.  You  are  now  in  possession  of 
my  notions  on  the  subject." 

July  6.  1821.  "  At  the  particular  request  of  the  Contessa  Guiccioli  I  have 
promised  not  to  continue  Don  Juan.  You  will  therefore  look  upon  these 
three  Cantos  as  the  last  of  the  poem.  She  had  read  the  two  first  in  the 
French  translation,  and  never  ceased  beseeching  me  to  write  no  more  of  it. 
The  reason  of  this  is  not  at  first  obvious  to  a  superficial  observer  of  foreign 
manners ;  but  it  arises  from  the  wish  of  all  women  to  exalt  the  sentiment 
of  the  passions,  and  to  keep  up  the  illusion  which  is  their  empire.  Now, 
Don  Juan  strips  off  this  illusion,  and  laughs  at  that  and  most  other  things. 
I  never  knew  a  woman  who  did  not  protect  Rousseau,  nor  one  who  did  not 
dislike  De  Grammont,  Gil  Bias,  and  all  the  comedy  of  the  passions,  when 
brought  out  naturally.  But  '  king's  blood  must  keep  word,'  as  Serjeant 
Bothwell  says." 

September  4. 1821.  "  I  read  over  the  Juans,  which  are  excellent  Your 
squad  are  quite  wrong ;  and  so  you  will  find,  by  and  by.  I  regret  that  I  do 
not  go  on  with  it,  for  I  had  all  the  plan  for  several  cantos,  and  diffierent 
countries  and  climes.  You  say  nothing  of  the  note  1  enclosed  to  you,  which 
will  explain  why  I  agreed  to  discontinue  it." 

In  Madame  Guiccioli's  note,  here  referred  to,  she  had  said, 
**  Remember,  my  Byron,  the  promise  you  have  made  me. 
Never  shall  I  be  able  to  tell  you  the  satisfaction  I  feel  from  it ; 
so  great  are  the  sentiments  of  pleasure  and  confidence  with 
which  the  sacrifice  you  have  made  has  inspired  me."  -'  E.] 


59 


DON     JUAN. 


CANTO    THE   FIFTH. 


When  amatory  poets  sing  their  loves 

In  liquid  lines  mellifluously  bland, 
And  pair  their  rhymes  as  Venus  yokes  her  doves, 

They  little  think  what  mischief  is  in  hand ; 
The  greater  their  success  the  worse  it  proves, 

As  Ovid's  verse  may  give  to  understand ; 
Even  Petrarch's  self,  if  judged  with  due  severity, 
Is  the  Platonic  pimp  of  all  posterity.  (^) 

II. 
I  therefore  do  denounce  all  amorous  writing, 

Except  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  attract ; 
Plain  —  simple — short,  and  by  no  means  inviting. 

But  with  a  moral  to  each  error  tack'd, 
Form'd  rather  for  instructing  than  delighting, 

\n(l  with  all  passions  in  their  turn  attack'd; 
-Now,  if  my  Pegasus  should  not  be  shod  ill. 
This  poem  will  become  a  moral  model. 

rS«e  "  HobhouM's  HUtorical  Note*  to  the  Fourth  Canto  of  Cbilde 
u   r  :  I."  cmtc.  Vol.  VIIL  p.  285.3 


60 


DON    JUAN. 


III. 

The  European  with  the  Asian  shore 

Sprinkled  with  palaces ;  the  ocean  stream  Q) 

Here  and  there  studded  with  a  seventy-four ; 
Sophia's  cupola  with  golden  gleam  ;  (2) 

The  cypress  groves  ;  Olympus  high  and  hoar ; 
The  twelve  isles,  and  the  more  than  I  could  dream, 

Far  less  describe,  present  the  very  view 

Which  charm 'd  the  charming  Mary  Montagu.  (3)   ^ 

IV. 

I  have  a  passion  for  the  name  of  "  Mary/'(*) 
For  once  it  was  a  magic  sound  to  me ; 

And  still  it  half  calls  up  the  realms  of  fairy, 
Where  I  beheld  what  never  was  to  be ; 

(1)  '^xicivofo  pioio.  This  expression  of  Homer  has  been  much  criticised. 
It  hardly  answers  to  our  Atlantic  ideas  of  the  ocean,  but  is  sufficiently 
applicable  to  the  Hellespont,  and  the  Bosphorus,  with  the  ^gean  inter- 
sected with  islands. 

(2)  ["  Lad)'  Mary  Wortley  errs  strangely  when  she  says,  '  St.  Paul's 
would  cut  a  strange  figure  by  St.  Sophia.'  I  have  been  in  both,  surveyed 
them  inside  and  out  attentively.  St.  Sophia's  is  undoubtedly  the  most  in- 
teresting,  from  its  immense  antiquity,  and  the  circumstance  of  all  the  Greek 
emperors,  from  Justinian,  having  been  crowned  there,  and  several  mur- 
dered at  the  altar,  besides  the  Turkish  sultans  who  attended  it  regularly. 
But  it  is  not  to  be  mentioned  in  the  same  page  with  St.  Paul's  (I  speak  like 
a  Cockney)." —  .B.  Letters,  1810.] 

(3)  ["  The  pleasure  of  going  in  a  barge  to  Chelsea  is  not  comparable  to 
that  of  rowing  upon  the  canal  of  the  sea  here,  where,  for  twenty  miles  to- 
gether, down  the  Bosphorus,  the  most  beautiful  variety  of  prospects  present 
themselves.  The  Asian  side  is  covered  with  fruit  trees,  villages,  and  the 
most  delightful  landscapes  in  nature ;  on  the  European  stands  Constanti- 
nople, situated  on  seven  hills  ;  showing  an  agreeable  mixture  of  gardens, 
pine  and  cypress  trees,  palaces,  mosques,  and  public  buildings,  raised  one 
above  another,  with  as  much  beauty  and  appearance  of  symmetry  as  you 
ever  saw  in  a  cabinet  adorned  by  the  most  skilful  hands,  where  jars  show 
themselves  above  jars,  mixed  with  canisters,  babies,  and  candlesticks.  This 
is  a  very  odd  comparison ;  but  it  gives  me  an  exact  idea  of  the  thing."  — 
Lady  M.  W.  Montagu.] 

(4)  [See  anti.  Vol  VII.  pp.  43.  291.] 


c.i>rov.  DON   JUAN.  61 

All  feelings  changed,  but  this  was  last  to  vary, 

A  spell  troin  which  even  yet  I  am  not  quite  free : 
But  I  grow  sad — and  let  a  tale  grow  cold, 
Whiih  must  not  be  pathetically  told. 

V. 

The  wind  swept  down  the  Euxine,  and  the  wave 
Broke  foaming  o'er  the  blue  Symplegades ; 

'Tis  a  grand  sight  from  off  "  the  Giant's  Grave "(^) 
To  watch  the  progress  of  those  rolling  seas 

Between  the  Bosphorus,  as  they  lash  and  lave(-) 
Europe  and  Asia,  you  being  quite  at  ease ; 

There 's  not  a  sea  the  passenger  e'er  pukes  in, 

Turns  up  more  dangerous  breakers  than  the  Euxine. 

VI. 

'Twas  a  raw  day  of  Autumn's  bleak  beginning. 
When  nights  are  equal,  but  not  so  the  days ; 

The  Parcae  then  cut  short  the  further  spinning 
Of  seamen's  fates,  and  the  loud  tempests  raise  (*^) 

The  waters,  and  repentance  for  past  sinning 

In  all,  who  o'er  the  great  deep  take  their  ways : 

They  vow  to  amend  their  lives,  and  yet  they  don't ; 

Because  if  drown'd,  they  can't  —  ifspared,  they  won't. 

(1)  The  "  Giant's  Grave"  u  a  height  on  the  Asiatic  shore  of  the  Bos- 
phoriu,  much  frequented  by  holiday  parties ;  like  Harrow  and  Highgate. 
[In  lew  than  an  hour,  we  were  on  the  top  of  the  mountain,  and  repaired 
to  the  Tekeh,  or  Dervishes'  chapel,  where  we  were  shewn,  in  the  adjoin- 
ing garden,  a  flower-bed  more  than  fifty  feet  long,  rimmed  round  with 
•tone,  and  having  a  sepulchral  turban  at  each  end,  which  preserves  a 
tupcrktiiidn  attached  to  the  spot  long  before  the  time  of  the  Turks,  or  of 
the  Byzantine  Christians  ;  and  which,  after  having  been  called  the  tomb 
of  Amycui,  and  the  bed  of  Hercules,  is  now  known  as  the  Giant's  Grave. 

—  HOBIIUI  SK.] 

(2)  [MS.  —  **  Which  lash  the  Bosphorus,  and  lashing  lave. "3 

(3)  [MS.  ^^  For  then  the  Parcse  are  most  busy  spinning 

The  fates  of  seamen,  and  the  loud  winds  raise"] 


62  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

VII. 

A  crowd  of  shivering  slaves  of  every  nation, 
And  age,  and  sex,  were  in  the  market  ranged ; 

Each  bevy  with  the  merchant  in  his  station : 
Poor  creatures !  their  good  looks  were  sadly  changed. 

All  save  the  blacks  seem'd  jaded  with  vexation. 
From  friends,  and  home,  and  freedom  far  estranged; 

The  negroes  more  philosophy  display 'd, — 

Used  to  it,  no  doubt,  as  eels  are  to  be  flay'd.  (') 

VIII. 

Juan  was  juvenile,  and  thus  was  full, 

As  most  at  his  age  are,  of  hope,  and  health ; 

Yet  I  must  own,  he  look'd  a  little  dull, 

And  now  and  then  a  tear  stole  down  by  stealth ; 

Perhaps  his  recent  loss  of  blood  might  pull 
His  spirit  down ;  and  then  the  loss  of  wealth, 

A  mistress,  and  such  comfortable  quarters. 

To  be  put  up  for  auction  amongst  Tartars, 

IX. 

Were  things  to  shake  a  stoic ;  ne'ertheless. 
Upon  the  whole  his  carriage  was  serene : 

His  figure,  and  the  splendour  of  his  dress. 

Of  which  some  gilded  remnants  still  were  seen. 

Drew  all  eyes  on  him,  giving  them  to  guess 
He  was  above  the  vulgar  by  his  mien ; 

And  then,  though  pale,  he  was  so  very  handsome  ; 

And  then — they  calculated  on  his  ransom.  (2) 

(1)  [MS.  —  "  From  use— no  doubt  — as  eels  are  —  to  be  flay'd,"] 

(2)  [MS.  —         "  That  he  a  man  of  rank  and  birth  had  been, 

And  then  they  calculated  on  his  ransom, 

And  last,  not  least  — he  was  so  very  handsome. "J 


NTO  V.  DON   JUAN.  63 

X. 

Like  a  backgammon  board  the  place  was  dotted 
With  whites  and  blacks,  in  groups  on  show  for  sale, 

Though  rather  more  irregularly  spotted : 

Some  bought  the  jet,  while  others  chose  the  pale. 

It  chanced  amongst  the  other  people  lotted, 
A  man  of  thirty,  rather  stout  and  hale,(i) 

With  resolution  in  his  dark  grey  eye, 

Next  Juan  stood,  till  some  might  choose  to  buy. 

XI. 

lie  had  an  English  look;  that  is,  was  square 
In  make,  of  a  complexion  white  and  ruddy, 

v.jood  teeth,  with  curling  rather  dark  brown  hair. 
And,  it  might  be  from  thought,  or  toil,  or  study. 

An  open  brow  a  little  mark'd  with  care : 
One  arm  had  on  a  bandage  rather  bloody ; 

And  there  he  stood  with  such  sang-froid,  that  greater 

Could  scarce  be  shown  even  by  a  mere  spectator. 

XII. 

But  seeing  at  his  elbow  a  mere  lad. 

Of  a  high  spirit  evidently,  though 
At  present  weigh'd  down  by  a  doom  which  had 

O'erthrown  even  men,  he  soon  began  to  show 
A  kind  of  blunt  compassion  for  the  sad 

Lot  of  so  young  a  partner  in  the  woe. 
Which  for  himself  he  seem'd  to  deem  no  worse 
Than  any  other  scrape,  a  thing  of  course. 

(1)  [MA  —  "  It  chanced,  that  near  him,  separately  lotted, 

From  out  the  groups  of  slavei  put  up  for  sale, 
A  man  of  middle  age,  and,"  &c.]; 


64'  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

XIII. 

"  My  boy  !" — said  he,  "  amidst  this  motley  crew 
Of  Georgians,  Russians,  Nubians,  and  what  not, 

All  ragamuffins  differing  but  in  hue, 

With  whom  it  is  our  luck  to  cast  our  lot, 

The  only  gentlemen  seem  I  and  you ; 
So  let  us  be  acquainted,  as  we  ought ; 

If  I  could  yield  you  any  consolation,  [nation  ?  " 

'T  would  give  me  pleasure. — Pray,  what  is  your 

XIV. 

When  Juan  answer 'd — "  Spanish  I"  he  replied, 
"  I  thought,  in  fact,  you  could  not  be  a  Greek ; 

Those  servile  dogs  are  not  so  proudly  eyed : 
Fortune  has  play'd  you  here  a  pretty  freak, 

But  that 's  her  way  with  all  men,  till  they  're  tried ; 
But  never  mind,  —  she'll  turn,  perhaps,  next  week; 

She  has  served  me  also  much  the  same  as  you. 

Except  that  I  have  found  it  nothing  new." 

XV. 

"  Pray,  sir,"  said  Juan,  "  if  I  may  presume,  [rare — 
What  brought  you  here  ?  " — "  Oh  I  nothing  very 

Six  Tartars  and  a  drag-chain " — "  To  this  doom 

But  what  conducted,  if  the  question 's  fair. 

Is  that  which  I  would  learn."  —  "  I  served  for  some 
Months  with  the  Russian  army  here  and  there, 

And  taking  lately,  by  Suwarrow's  bidding, 

A  town,  was  ta'en  myself  instead  of  Widdin."(i) 


(1)  [Widdin  is  a  considerable  town  in  Bulgaria,  situated  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  Danube.] 


CAXTOV.  DON   JUAN.  65 

xvr. 

*•  Have  you  no  friends?" — "  I  had — but,  by  God's 
blessing, 
Have  not  been  troubled  with  them  lately.     Now 

I  have  answer'd  all  your  questions  without  pressing, 
And  you  an  equal  courtesy  should  show." 
Alas  !"  said  Juan,  "  'twere  a  tale  distressing. 
And  long  besides." — "  Oh !  if  'tis  really  so. 

You're  right  on  botli  accounts  to  hold  your  tongue ; 

A  sad  tale  saddens  doubly,  when  'tis  long. 

XVII. 

But  droop  not ;  Fortune  at  your  time  of  life, 

Although  a  female  moderately  fickle. 
Will  hardly  leave  you  (as  she's  not  your  wife) 

For  any  length  of  days  in  such  a  pickle. 
To  strive,  too,  with  our  fate  were  such  a  strife 

As  if  the  corn-sheaf  should  oppose  the  sickle : 
Men  are  the  sport  of  circumstances,  when 
The  circumstances  seem  the  sport  of  men." 

XVIII. 

Tis  not,"  said  Juan,  "  for  my  present  doom 

I  mourn,  but  for  the  past; — I  loved  a  maid:"  — 
He  paused,  and  his  dark  eye  grew  full  of  gloom ; 

A  single  tear  upon  his  eyelash  staid 
A  moment,  and  then  dropp'd ;  "  but  to  resume, 

'Tis  not  my  present  lot,  as  I  have  said, 
Which  I  deplore  so  much  ;  for  I  have  borne 
Hardships  which  have  the  hardiest  overworn,  (') 

(1)  ^MS. —  "  for  I  have  known 

Hardahipt  which  hardy  men  have  overthrown.''^ 

VOL.  XVI.  F 


66  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

XIX. 

"  On  the  rough  deep.     But  this  last  blow — "  and 
He  stopp'd  again,  and  turn'd  away  his  face,  [here 

"  Ay,"  quoth  his  friend,  "  I  thought  it  would  appear 
That  there  had  been  a  lady  in  the  case ; 

And  these  are  things  which  ask  a  tender  tear,(i) 
Such  as  I,  too,  would  shed  if  in  your  place : 

I  cried  upon  my  first  wife's  dying  day, 

And  also  when  my  second  ran  away : 

XX. 

"  My  third " — "Your  third ! "  quoth  Juan,  turn- 
ing round ; 

"  You  scarcely  can  be  thirty :  have  you  three  ?  " 
"  No — only  two  at  present  above  ground: 

Surely  'tis  nothing  wonderful  to  see 
One  person  thrice  in  holy  wedlock  bound !"    [she  ? 

"  Well,  then,  your  third,"  said  Juan ;  what  did 
She  did  not  run  away,  too, — did  she,  sir?"  [her." 
"  No,  faith." — "  What  then?" — "  I  ran  away  from 

XXI. 

"  You  take  things  coolly,  sir,"  said  Juan.     "  Why," 
Replied  the  other,  "  what  can  a  man  do  ? 

There  still  are  many  rainbows  in  your  sky. 

But  mine  have  vanish'd.     All,  when  life  is  new, 

Commence  with  feelings  warm,  and  prospects  high ; 
But  time  strips  our  illusions  of  their  hue. 

And  one  by  one  in  turn,  some  grand  mistake 

Casts  off  its  bright  skin  yearly  like  the  snake. 

(2)  [MS.  —  "  And  these  are  things  that  oft  demand  a  tear."] 


CAXTO  V.  DON    JUAN.  •       67 

XXII. 

Tis  true,  it  gets  another  bright  and  fresh, 

Or  fresher,  brighter ;  but  the  year  gone  through, 
This  skin  must  go  the  way,  too,  of  all  flesh, 

Or  sometimes  only  wear  a  week  or  two ;  — 
Love's  the  first  net  which  spreads  its  deadly  mesh ; 

Ambition,  Avarice,  Vengeance,  Glory,  glue 
The  glittering  lime-twigs  of  our  latter  days, 
Where  still  we  flutter  on  for  pence  or  praise." 

XXIII. 

"  All  this  is  very  fine,  and  may  be  true," 
Said  Juan  ;  "  but  I  really  don't  see  how 

It  betters  present  times  with  me  or  you." 

"  No?"  quoth  the  other;  "  yet  you  will  allow 

By  setting  things  in  their  right  point  of  view. 

Knowledge,  at  least,  is  gain'd ;  for  instance,  now. 

We  know  what  slavery  is,  and  our  disasters 

May  teach  us  better  to  behave  when  masters." 

XXIV. 

"  Would  we  were  masters  now,  if  but  to  try 

Tlieir  present  lessons  on  our  Pagan  friends  here," 

Said  Juan — swallowing  a  heart-burning  sigh  :(i) 
"  Heaven  help  the  scholar  whom  his  fortune  sends 
here  !" 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  be  one  day,  by  and  by,"    [here ; 
Ilejoin'd  the  other,  "  when  our  bad  luck  mends 

Meantime  (yon  old  black  eunuch  seems  to  eye  us) 

I  wish  to  G — d  that  somebody  would  buy  us  !  (-) 

(1)  [MS.  —  "  Said  Juan,  •wallowing  down  a  rising  sigh."] 

(8)  [MA  — ••  Twould  be[  J*  ^^"^  jif  somebody  would  buy  us."] 

r  2 


68  •  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

XXV. 

"  But  after  all,  what  is  our  present  state  ? 

'Tis  bad,  and  may  be  better — all  men's  lot : 
Most  men  are  slaves,  none  more  so  than  the  great. 

To  their  own  whims  and  passions,  and  what  not ; 
Society  itself,  which  should  create 

Kindness,  destroys  what  little  we  had  got : 
To  feel  for  none  is  the  true  social  art 
Of  the  world's  stoics — men  without  a  heart." 

XXVI. 

Just  now  a  black  old  neutral  personage 

Of  the  third  sex  stept  up,  and  peering  over 

The  captives  seem'd  to  mark  their  looks  and  age. 
And  capabilities,  as  to  discover 

If  they  were  fitted  for  the  purposed  cage  : 
No  lady  e'er  is  ogled  by  a  lover. 

Horse  by  a  blackleg,  broadcloth  by  a  tailor^ 

Fee  by  a  counsel,  felon  by  a  jailor,  (*) 

XXVII. 

As  is  a  slave  by  his  intended  bidder.  (2) 

'T  is  pleasant  purchasing  our  fellow-creatures  ; 

And  all  are  to  be  sold,  if  you  consider 

Their  passions,  and  are  dext'rous ;  some  by  features 

(1)  [MS.  —  "  broad  cloth  by  a  tailor, 

Fee  by  physician,  felon  by  a  jailor."] 

(2)  ["  The  intended  bidders  minutely  examine  the  poor  creatures  merely 
to  ascertain  their  qualities  as  animals,  select  the  sleekest  and  best-condi- 
tioned from  the  different  groups ;  and,  besides  handling  and  examining 
their  make  and  size,  subject  their  mouths,  their  teeth,  and  whatever 
chiefly  engages  attention,  to  a  scrutiny  of  the  most  critical  description." 
De  Pouqueville.] 


CANTO  T.  DON    JUAN.  69 

Are  bought  up,  others  by  a  warlike  leader, 

Some  by  a  place — as  tend  their  years  or  natures ; 
The  most  by  ready  cash — but  all  have  prices,  (i) 
From  crowns  to  kicks,  according  to  their  vices. 

XXVIII. 

The  eunuch  having  eyed  them  o'er  with  care, 
Turn'd  to  the  merchant,  and  begun  to  bid 

First  but  for  one,  and  after  for  the  pair ; 

They  haggled,  wrangled,  swore,  too — so  they  did! 

As  though  they  were  in  a  mere  Christian  fair 
Cheapening  an  ox,  an  ass,  a  lamb,  or  kid ; 

So  that  their  bargain  sounded  like  a  battle 

For  this  superior  yoke  of  human  cattle. 

XXIX. 

At  last  they  settled  into  simple  grumbling. 
And  pulling  out  reluctant  purses,  and 

Turning  each  piece  of  silver  o'er,  and  tumbling 
Some  down,  and  weighing  others  in  their  hand, 


(1)  ["  Sir  Robert  Walpole  is  justly  blamed  for  a  want  of  political  de- 
conun,  »nd  for  deriding  public  spirit,  to  which  Pope  alludes :  — 

*  Seen  him,  I  have,  but  in  his  happier  hour 
Of  Mxrial  pleasure,  ill  exchanged  for  power; 
Seen  him,  uncuinber'd  with  the  venal  tribe. 
Smile  without  art,  and  win  without  a  bribe. 
Would  he  oblige  me  !  let  me  only  find 
He  does  not  think  me,  what  he  thinks  mankind.' 

Although  it  U  not  possible  to  justify  him,  yet  this  part  of  his  conduct  ha« 
been  greatly  exaggerated.  The  political  axiom  generally  attributed  to 
biin«  thai  all  men  have  their  price,  was  perverted  by  leaving  out  the  word 
thou.  Flowery  oratory  he  despised  ;  he  ascribed  it  to  the  interestetl  views 
of  tbemseWes  or  their  relatives,  the  declarations  of  pretended  patriots,  ol 
wbom  he  said,  *  All  those  men  have  their  price,'  and  in  the  event  many 
of  them  justified  his  obsenration."  —  Coxb.] 

r  3 


70  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

And  by  mistake  sequins  (i)  with  paras  jumbling, 

Until  the  sum  was  accurately  scann'd, 
And  then  the  merchant  giving  change,  and  signing 
Receipts  in  full,  began  to  think  of  dining. 


XXX. 

I  wonder  if  his  appetite  was  good  ? 

Or,  if  it  were,  if  also  his  digestion  ? 
Methinks  at  meals  some  odd  thoughts  might  intrude, 

And  conscience  ask  a  curious  sort  of  question. 
About  the  right  divine  how  far  we  should 

Sell  flesh  andblood.  When  dinner  has  opprest  one, 
I  think  it  is  perhaps  the  gloomiest  hour 
Which  turns  up  out  of  the  sad  twenty-four. 


XXXI. 

Voltaire  says  "  No:"  he  tells  you  that  Candide 
Found  life  most  tolerable  after  meals ; 

He's  wrong — unless  man  were  a  pig,  indeed, 
Repletion  rather  adds  to  what  he  feels. 

Unless  he's  drunk,  and  then  no  doubt  he's  freed 
From  his  own  brain's  oppression  while  it  reels. 

Of  food  I  think  with  Philip's  son,  ('-)  or  rather 

Ammon's  (ill  pleased  with  one  world  and  one  fa- 
ther); (3) 

(1)  I^The  Turkish  zecchino  is  a  gold  coin,  worth  about  seven  shillings 
and  sixpence.    The  para  is  not  quite  equal  to  an  English  halfpenny.] 

(2)  See  Plutarch   in  Alex.,  Q.  Curt.  Hist   Alexand.,  and  Sir  Richard 
Clayton's  "  Critical  Inquiry  into  the  Life  of  Alexander  the  Great." 

(3)  [MS,  —  "  But  for  mere  food,  I  think  with  Philip's  son. 

Or  Ammon's  —  for  two  fathers  claim'd  this  one."3 


CANTO  T.  DON    JUAN.  71 

XXXII. 

I  think  with  Alexander,  that  the  act 

Of  eating,  with  another  act  or  two, 
Makes  us  feel  our  mortality  in  fact 

Redoubled  ;  when  a  roast  and  a  ragout. 
And  fish,  and  soup,  by  some  side  dishes  back'd. 

Can  give  us  either  pain  or  pleasure,  who 
Would  pique  himself  on  intellects,  whose  use 
Depends  so  much  upon  the  gastric  juice  ?(^) 

XXXIIl. 

Tlie  other  evening  ('twas  on  Friday  last)  — 
This  is  a  fact,  and  no  poetic  fable  — 

Just  as  my  great  coat  was  about  me  cast, 
^ly  hat  and  gloves  still  lying  on  the  table, 

I  heard  a  shot — 'twas  eight  o'clock  scarce  past — 
And,  running  out  as  fast  as  I  was  able,  (2) 

I  found  the  military  commandant 

Stretch'd  in  the  street,  and  able  scarce  to  pant.  (3) 

(Ij  ["  Last  night  suffered  horribly  from  an  indigestion.  I  remarked  in 
my  Ulness  the  complete  inertion,  inaction,  and  destruction  of  my  chief 
mental  faculties.  I  tried  to  rouse  them,  and  yet  could  not  1  should  believe 
that  the  soul  was  married  to  the  body,  if  they  did  not  sympathise  so  much 
with  each  other.  If  the  one  rose  when  the  other  fell,  it  would  be  a  sign 
that  they  longed  for  the  natural  state  of  divorce.  But,  as  it  is,  they  seem 
to  draw  together  like  post-horses."  —  B.  Diary,  1821.] 

(2)  The  assassination  alluded  to  took  place  on  the  8th  of  December, 
1890,  in  the  streets  of  Ravenna,  not  a  hundred  paces  from  the  residence  of 
the  writer.  The  circumstances  were  as  described.  —  ["  December  9.  1820. 
I  oj*n  my  letter  to  tell  you  a  fact,  which  will  show  the  state  of  this 
country  lictter  than  I  can.  The  commandant  of  the  troops  is  now  lying 
dead  in  mj  bouse.  He  was  shot  at  a  little  past  eight  o'clock,  about  two 
hundred  paces  from  my  door.  I  was  putting  on  my  great  coat  when  I 
heard  the  shot  On  coming  into  the  hall,  I  found  all  my  servants  on  the 
balcony,  exclaiming  that  a  man  was  murdered.  I  immediately  ran  down, 
calling  on  Tita  (the  bravest  of  them)  to  follow  me.  The  rest  wanted  to 
hinder  us  from  going,  as  it  b  the  custom  for  every  body  here,  it  seems,  to 
run  away  from  the  stricken  deer."  —  /?.  Letters.'^ 

13)  [MS.  —  ••  Just  kiU'd,  and  scarcely  competent  to  pant"] 

P  4. 


72  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

XXXIV. 

Poor  fellow  !  for  some  reason,  surely  bad, 

They  had  slain  him  with  five  slugs ;  and  left  him  there 

To  perish  on  the  pavement :  so  I  had 

Him  borne  into  the  house  and  up  the  stair, 

And  stripp  d,and  look'd  to,(i) But  why  should  I 

add 
More  circumstances  ?  vain  was  every  care  ; 

The  man  was  gone :  in  some  Italian  quarrel 

Kill'd  by  five  bullets  from  an  old  gun-barrel.  (2) 


I  gazed  upon  him,  for  I  knew  him  well ; 

And  though  I  have  seen  many  corpses,  never 
Saw  one,  whom  such  an  accident  befell, 

So  calm ;  though  pierced  through  stomach,  heart, 
and  liver, 

(1)  [MS.—  "so  I  had 

Him  borne  as  soon 's  I  could,  up  several  pair 

Of  stairs  —  and  look'd  to, But  why  should  I  add 

More  circumstances,"  &c.] 

(2)  ["  We  found  him  lying  on  his  back,  almost,  if  not  quite,  dead,  with 
five  wounds,  one  in  the  heart,  two  in  the  stomach,  one  in  the  finger,  and 
the  other  in  the  arm.  Some  soldiers  cocked  their  guns,  and  wanted  to 
hinder  me  from  passing.  However,  we  passed,  and  I  found  Diego,  the 
adjutant,  crying  over  him  like  a  child  —  a  surgeon,  who  said  nothing  of 
his  profession  —  a  priest,  sobbing  a  frightened  prayer  —  and  the  command- 
ant, all  this  time,  on  his  back,  on  the  hard,  cold  pavement,  without  light 
or  assistance,  or  any  thing  around  him  but  confusion  and  dismay.  As  no- 
body  could,  or  would,  do  any  thing  but  howl  and  pray,  and  as  no  one 
would  stir  a  finger  to  move  him,  for  fear  of  consequences,  I  lost  my  pa. 
tience  —  made  my  servant  and  a  couple  of  the  mob  take  up  the  body  — 
sent  off  two  soldiers  to  the  guard  —  despatched  Diego  to  the  Cardinal  with 
the  news,  and  had  him  carried  up  stairs  into  my  own  quarters.  But  it 
was  too  late  —  he  was  gone.  There  were  found  close  by  him  an  old  gun- 
barrel,  sawn  half  off;  it  had  just  been  discharged,  and  was  quite  warm."  — 
B.  Letters.^ 


DON    JUAN.  73 

He  seem'd  to  sleep, — for  you  could  scarcely  tell 

(As  he  bled  inwardly,  no  hideous  river 
Of  gore  divulged  the  cause)  that  he  was  dead : 
So  as  I  gazed  on  him,  I  thought  or  said — 

XXXVI. 

"  Can  this  be  death  ?  then  what  is  life  or  death  ? 

JSpeak  I "  but  he  spoke  not :  "  wake  ! "  but  still  he 
slept : — 
"  But  yesterday  and  who  had  mightier  breath  ? 

A  thousand  warriors  by  his  word  were  kept 
In  awe  :  he  said,  as  the  centurion  saith, 

*  Go,'  and  he  goeth  ;  '  come,'  and  forth  he  stepp'd. 
The  trump  and  bugle  till  he  spake  were  dumb — 
And  now  nought  left  him  but  the  muffled  drum."(i) 

XXXVII. 

And  they  who  waited  once  and  worshipp'd — they 
With  their  rough  faces  throng'd  about  the  bed 

To  gaze  once  more  on  the  commanding  clay 
Which  for  the  last,  though  not  the  first,  time  bled : 

And  such  an  end !  that  he  who  many  a  day 
Had  faced  Napoleon's  foes  until  they  fled, — 

The  foremost  in  the  charge  or  in  the  sally, 

Should  now  be  butcher'd  in  a  civic  alley. 

XXXVIII. 

The  scars  of  his  old  wounds  were  near  his  new, 
Those  honourable  scars  which  brought  him  fame ; 

And  liorrid  was  the  contrast  to  the  view (2) 

But  let  me  quit  the  theme ;  as  such  things  claim 

(1)  [MS,  —  **  And  now  as  »llent  as  an  unstrung  drum."] 

(2)  ["  I  had  him  partly  (tripped  —  made  the  surgeon  examine  him,  and 
examined  him  iny»elf.  He  had  been  shot  by  cut  balls  or  slugs.  I  felt  one 
of  the  slugs,  which  had  gone  through  him,  all  but  the  skin.    He  only  said, 

I  )io !'  and '  Gicsu  !*  two  or  three  times,  and  appeared  to  have  suffered 


74«  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

Perhaps  even  more  attention  than  is  due 

From  me  :  I  gazed  (as  oft  I  have  gazed  the  same) 
To  try  if  I  could  wrench  aught  out  of  death 
Which  should  confirm,  or  shake,  or  make  a  faith ; 

XXXIX. 

But  it  was  all  a  mystery.     Here  we  are, 

And  there  we  go : — but  where  ?  five  bits  of  lead, 

Or  three,  or  two,  or  one,  send  very  far  ! 

And  is  this  blood,  then,  form'd  but  to  be  shed  ? 

Can  every  element  our  elements  mar  ? 

And  air — earth — water — fire  live — and  we  dead? 

We^  whose  minds  comprehend  all  things  ?   No  more ; 

But  let  us  to  the  story  as  before. 

XL. 

The  purchaser  of  Juan  and  acquaintance 
Bore  off  his  bargains  to  a  gilded  boat, 

Embark'd  himself  and  them,  and  off  they  went  thence 
As  fast  as  oars  could  pull  and  water  float ; 

They  look'd  like  persons  being  led  to  sentence. 
Wondering  what   next,   till   the   caique  (i)  was 

Up  in  a  little  creek  below  a  wall  [brought 

O'ertopp'd  with  cypresses,  dark-green  and  tall. 


little.  Poor  fellow !  he  was  a  brave  officer ;  but  had  made  himself  disliked 
by  the  people."  I  knew  him  personally,  and  had  met  him  often  at 
conversazioni  and  elsewhere.  My  house  is  full  of  soldiers,  dragoons, 
doctors,  priests,  and  all  kinds  of  persons,  —  though  I  have  now  cleared  it 
and  clapped  sentinels  at  the  door.  To-morrow  the  body  is  to  be  moved. 
You  are  to  know,  that  if  I  had  not  had  the  body  moved,  they  would  have 
left  him  there  till  morning  in  the  street,  for  fear  of  consequences.  I 
would  not  choose  to  let  even  a  dog  die  in  such  a  manner,  without  suc- 
cour;—and,  as  for  consequences,  I  care  for  none  in  a  duty."  — 
£.  Letters. 1 

(1)  The  light  and  elegant  wherries  plying  about  the  quays  of  Constanti-  ' 
nople  are  so  called. 


•  VTOT,  DON   JUAN.  75 

XLI. 

Here  their  conductor  tapping  at  the  wicket 
Of  a  small  iron  door,  'twas  open'd,  and 

He  led  them  onward,  first  through  a  low  thicket 
Flank'd  by  large  groves,  which  tower'd  on  either 
hand : 

They  almost  lost  their  way,  and  had  to  pick  it — 
For  night  was  closing  ere  they  came  to  land. 

The  eunuch  made  a  sign  to  those  on  board, 

Who  row'd  off,  leaving  them  without  a  word. 

XLII. 

As  they  were  plodding  on  their  winding  way 

Through  orange  bowers,  and  jasmine,  and  so  forth : 

(Of  which  I  might  have  a  good  deal  to  say. 
There  being  no  such  profusion  in  the  North 

Of  oriental  plants,  "  et  cetera," 

But  that  of  late  your  scribblers  think  it  worth 

Their  while  to  rear  whole  hotbeds  in  their  works 

Because  one  poet  travell'd  'mongst  the  Turks  :)(^) 

XLIII. 

As  they  were  threading  on  their  way,  there  came 
Into  Don  Juan's  head  a  thought,  which  he 

^V!lisper'd  to  his  companion: — 'twas  the  same 
Which  might  have  then  occurr'd  to  you  or  me. 
^  leth  inks," — said  he,  —  "it  would  be  no  great  shame 
If  we  should  strike  a  stroke  to  set  us  free ; 

Let 's  knock  that  old  black  fellow  on  the  head, 

And  march  away — 'twere  easier  done  than  said." 

U    L"  ta«CTn  siietche*,"  "  Parga,"  "  Phrosyne,"  "  Ilderim,"  &c.  &c.] 


76  '  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

XLIV. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  "  and  when  done,  what  then? 

How  get  out  ?  how  the  devil  got  we  in  ? 
And  when  we  once  were  fairly  out,  and  when 

From    Saint  Bartholomew  we    have   saved   our 
To-morrow 'd  see  us  in  some  other  den,      [skin,(i) 

And  worse  off  than  we  hitherto  have  been ; 
Besides,  I'm  hungry,  and  just  now  would  take, 
Like  Esau,  for  my  birthright  a  beef-steak. 

XLV. 

"  We  must  be  near  some  place  of  man's  abode ; — 
For  the  old  negro's  confidence  in  creeping. 

With  his  two  captives,  by  so  queer  a  road, 

Shows  that  he  thinks  his  friends  have  not  been 
sleeping ; 

A  single  cry  would  bring  them  all  abroad  : 

'Tis  therefore  better  looking  before  leaping  —  (2) 

And  there,  you  see,  this  turn  has  brought  us  through. 

By  Jove,  a  noble  palace  !  —  lighted  too." 

XLVI. 

It  was  indeed  a  wide  extensive  building 

Which  open'd  on  their  view,  and  o'er  the  front 

There  seem'd  to  be  besprent  a  deal  of  gilding 
And  various  hues,  as  is  the  Turkish  wont, — 

A  gaudy  taste  ;  for  they  are  little  skill'd  in 

The  arts  of  which  these  lands  were  once  the  font : 

Each  villa  on  the  Bosphorus  looks  a  screen 

New  painted,  or  a  pretty  opera-scene. 

(1)  St  Bartholomew  is  said  to  have  been  flayed  alive. 

(2)  [MS.  — "  I  am  for  rather  looking  now  than  leaping."] 


CAXTOV.  DON   JUAN.  77 

XLVII. 

And  nearer  as  they  came,  a  genial  savour 

•    Of  certain  stews,  and  roast-meats,  and  pilaus, 

Things  which  in  hungry  mortals'  eyes  find  favour, 

Made  Juan  in  his  harsh  intentions  pause, 
And  put  himself  upon  his  good  behaviour : 

His  friend,  too,  adding  a  new  saving  clause. 
Said,  "  In  Heaven's  name  let's  get  some  supper  now, 
And  then  I'm  with  you,  if  you're  for  a  row." 

XLVIII. 

Some  talk  of  an  appeal  unto  some  passion. 

Some  to  men's  feelings,  others  to  their  reason ; 

The  last  of  these  was  never  much  the  fashion, 
For  reason  thinks  all  reasoning  out  of  season. 

Some  speakers  whine,  and  others  lay  the  lash  on. 
But  more  or  less  continue  still  to  tease  on. 

With  arguments  according  to  their  "  forte ;" 

But  no  one  ever  dreams  of  being  short. — 

XLIX. 

But  I  digress:  of  all  appeals, — although 
I  grant  the  power  of  pathos,  and  of  gold. 

Of  beauty,  flattery,  threats,  a  shilling, — no 

Method's  more  sure  at  moments  to  take  hold(^) 

Of  the  best  feelings  of  mankind,  which  grow 
More  tender,  as  we  every  day  behold. 

Than  that  all-softening,  overpowering  knell, 

The  tocsin  of  the  soul  —  the  dinner-bell. 


(1)  [M&— •*  Of  •peeche*,  beauty,  flattery  — there  U  no 
Method  more  lure,"  &c.3 


78  EON    JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

L. 

Turkey  contains  no  bells,  and  yet  men  dine ; 

And  Juan  and  his  friend,  albeit  they  heard 
No  Christian  knoll  to  table,  saw  no  line 

Of  lackeys  usher  to  the  feast  prepared, 
Yet  smelt  roast-meat,  beheld  a  huge  fire  shine. 

And  cooks  in  motion  with  their  clean  arms  bared, 
And  gazed  around  them  to  the  left  and  right 
With  the  prophetic  eye  of  appetite. 

LI. 

And  giving  up  all  notions  of  resistance. 

They  follow'd  close  behind  their  sable  guide, 

Who  little  thought  that  his  own  crack'd  existence 
Was  on  the  point  of  being  set  aside : 

He  motion'd  them  to  stop  at  some  small  distance, 
And  knocking  at  the  gate,  'twas  open'd  wide, 

And  a  magnificent  large  hall  display'd 

The  Asian  pomp  of  Ottoman  parade. 

LII. 

I  won't  describe ;  description  is  my  forte. 
But  every  fool  describes  in  these  bright  days 

His  wondrous  journey  to  some  foreign  court. 

And  spawns  his  quarto,  and  demands  your  praise — 

Death  to  his  publisher,  to  him  't  is  sport ; 

While  Nature,  tortured  twenty  thousand  ways. 

Resigns  herself  with  exemplary  patience 

To  guide-books,  (^)  rhymes,  (2)  tours,  (3)  sketches,  (^) 
illustrations.  (^) 

(1)  ["  Guide   des  Voyageurs,"   "  Directions    for  Travellers,"  &c.  — 
(2)  "  Rhymes,  Incidental  and  Humorous,"  "  Rhyming  Reminiscences," 


CAXTOT.  DON    JUAN.  79 

LIII. 

Along  this  hall,  and  up  and  down,  some,  squatted 
Upon  their  hams,  were  occupied  at  chess ; 

Others  in  monosyllable  talk  chatted. 
And  some  seem'd  much  in  love  with  their  own  dress. 

And  divers  smoked  superb  pipes  decorated 
With  amber  mouths  of  greater  price  or  less ; 

And  several  strutted,  others  slept,  and  some 

Prepared  for  supper  with  a  glass  of  rum.  (•) 

LIV. 

As  the  black  eunuch  enter'd  with  his  brace 
Of  purchased  Infidels,  some  raised  their  eyes 

A  moment  without  slackening  from  their  pace  ; 
But  those  who  sate,  ne'er  stirr'd  in  any  wise :  (-) 

One  or  two  stared  the  captives  in  the  face, 
Just  as  one  views  a  horse  to  guess  his  price ; 

Some  nodded  to  the  negro  from  their  station. 

But  no  one  troubled  him  with  conversation.  (3) 

*•  Effbsion*  in  Rhyme,"  &&— .(3)  "  Lady  Morgan's  Tour  in  Italy,"  *'Tour 

*^ -'-  'Tta,"  &C.  &C.— (4)  "  Sketches  of  Italy,"  "  Sketches  of  Modern 

\c.  —  (5)  A  playful  allusion  to  Mr.  Hobhouse's  "  Illustrations 
iirold."] 

(1;  in  Turkey  nothing  is  more  common  than  for  the  Mussulmans  to  take 
«•*«*!  gUww  of  strong  spirits  by  way  of  appetizer.  I  have  seen  them 
take  M  many  aa  six  of  raki  before  dinner,  and  swear  that  they  dined  the 
better  for  it :  I  tried  the  experiment,  hut  fared  like  the  Scotchman,  who 
luring  heard  that  the  birds  called  kittiwakes  were  admirable  whets,  ate 
iix  of  them,  and  complained  that  "  he  was  no  hungrier  than  when  he 
b<«aa"] 

42)  [MS  —  **  The  sitters  never  stirr'd  in  any  wise"] 

(S)  C"  ETcry  thing  is  so  still  in  the  court  of  the  seraglio,  that  the  motion 
of  a  fly  oiight,  in  a  manner,  be  heard  ;  and  if  any  one  should  presume  to 
lalM  hW  voice  ever  lo  Uttlc,  or  show  the  least  want  of  respect  to  the 
wanripo  placa  of  their  emperor,  he  would  insUntly  have  the  bastinado  by 
the  officen  that  go  the  roundt.**— Toubnefobt.] 


80  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

LV. 

He  leads  them  through  the  hall,  and,  without  stopping, 
On  through  a  farther  range  of  goodly  rooms, 

Splendid  but  silent,  save  in  one,  where,  dropping,  Q) 
A  marble  fountain  echoes  through  the  glooms 

Of  night,  which  robe  the  chamber,  or  where  popping 
Some  female  head  most  curiously  presumes 

To  thrust  its  black  eyes  through  the  door  or  lattice. 

As  wondering  what  the  devil  noise  that  is. 

LVI. 

Some  faint  lamps  gleaming  from  the  lofty  walls 
Gave  light  enough  to  hint  their  farther  way, 

But  not  enough  to  show  the  imperial  halls 
In  all  the  flashing  of  their  full  array ; 

Perhaps  there's  nothing — I'll  not  say  appals. 
But  saddens  more  by  night  as  well  as  day, 

Than  an  enormous  room  without  a  soul 

To  break  the  lifeless  splendour  of  the  whole. 

LVII. 

Two  or  three  seem  so  little,  one  seems  nothing : 
In  deserts,  forests,  crowds,  or  by  the  shore, 

There  solitude,  we  know,  has  her  full  growth  in 
The  spots  which  were  her  realms  for  evermore ; 


(1)  A  common  furniture.    I  recollect  being  received  by  Ali  Pacha,  in  a 
large  room,  paved  with  marble,  containing  a  marble  basin,  and  fountain 
playing  in  the  centre,  &c.  &c.    [See  anti.  Vol.  VIIL  p.  92.  — 
"  In  marble-paved  pavilion,  where  a  spring 
Of  living  water  from  the  centre  rose. 
Whose  bubbling  did  a  genial  freshness  fling. 

And  soft  voluptuous  couches  breathed  repose. 
An  reclined,  a  man  of  war  and  woes,"  &c.] 


CAXTO  T.  DON   JUAN.  81 

But  in  a  mighty  hall  or  gallery,  both  in 

More  modern  buildings  and  those  built  of  yore, 
A  kind  of  death  comes  o'er  us  all  alone, 
Seeing  what's  meant  for  many  with  but  one. 

LVIII. 

neat,  snug  study  on  a  winter's  night,  (i) 

A  book,  friend,  single  lady,  or  a  glass 
Of  claret,  sandwich,  and  an  appetite, 

Are  things  which  make  an  English  evening  pass ; 
Though  certes  by  no  means  so  grand  a  sight 

As  is  a  theatre  lit  up  by  gas. 
I  pass  my  evenings  in  long  galleries  solely. 
And  that's  the  reason  I'm  so  melancholy. 

LIX. 

Alas!  man  makes  that  great  which  makes  him  little: 
I  grant  you  in  a  church  'tis  very  well : 

\Vhat  speaks  of  Heaven  should  by  no  means  be  brittle, 
But  strong  and  lasting,  till  no  tongue  can  tell 

Their  names  who  rear'd  it;  but  huge  houses  fit  ill  — 
And  huge  tombs  worse — mankind,  since  Adam  fell: 

Methinks  the  story  of  the  tower  of  Babel 

Might  teach  them  this  much  better  than  I'm  able. 

LX. 

B^bel  was  Nimrod's  hunting-box,  and  then 

A  town  of  gardens,  walls,  and  wealth  amazing, 

\\  liere  Nabuchadonosor,  king  of  men, 

Reign'd,  till  one  summer's  day  he  took  to  grazing, 

:    [MS.  —"A  •man,  anug  chamber  on  a  winter'*  night. 

Well  ftimUh'd  with  a  book,  friend,  girl,  or  glass,"  fttj 

VOL.  XVI.  O 


82  DON   JUAN.  CANTON 

And  Daniel  tamed  the  lions  in  their  den, 

The  people's  awe  and  admiration  raising ; 
'Twas  famous,  too,  for  Thisbe  and  for  Pyramus,(') 
And  the  calumniated  queen  Semiramis.  —  (-') 

LXI. 

That  injured  Queen,  by  Chroniclers  so  coarse 
Has  been  accused  (I  doubt  not  by  conspiracy) 

Of  an  improper  friendship  for  her  horse 

(Love,  like  religion,  sometimes  runs  to  heresy) : 

This  monstrous  tale  had  probably  its  source 
(For  such  exaggerations  here  and  there  I  see) 

In  writing  "  Courser"  by  mistake  for  "  Courier:" 

I  wish  the  case  could  come  before  a  jury  here,  p) 

LXII. 

But  to  resume,  —  should  there  be  (what  may  not 
Be  in  these  days  ?)  some  infidels,  who  don't, 

Because  they  can't  find  out  the  very  spot(-*) 
Of  that  same  Babel,  or  because  they  won't 


(1)  [See  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  lib.  iv. 

"  In  Babylon,  where  first  her  queen,  for  state. 
Raised  walls  of  brick  magnificently  great. 
Lived  Pyramus  and  Thisbe,  lovely  pair! 
He  found  no  Eastern  youth  his  equal  there. 
And  she  beyond  the  fairest  nymph  was  fair." —  GarthJ 

(2)  Babylon  was  enlarged  by  Nimrod,  strengthened  and  beautified  by 
Nabuchadonosor,  and  rebuilt  by  Semiramis. 

(3)  [At  the  time  when  Lord  Byron  was  writing  this  Canto,  the  unfor. 
tunate  affair  of  Queen  Caroline,  charged,  among  other  offences,  with  ad- 
mitting her  chamberlain,  Bergami,  originally  a  courier,  to  her  bed,  was 
occupying  much  attention  in  Italy,  as  in  England.  The  allusions  to  the 
domestic  troubles  of  George  IV.  in  the  text,  arc  frequent.  —  E.] 

(4)  [Excepting  the  ruins  of  some  large  and  lofty  turrets,  like  that  of 
Babel  or  Belus,  the  cities  of  Babylon  and  Nineveh  are  so  completely 


DON    JUAN. 


8^ 


^^  riiough  Claudius  Rich,  Esquire,  some  brinks  Las  got, 

And  written  lately  two  memoirs  upon  s)(') 
Believe  the  Jews,  those  unbelievers,  who 
Must  be  believed,  though  they  believe  not  you. 


LXIII. 

Yet  let  them  think  that  Horace  has^xprest 
Shortly  and  sweetly  ihe  masonic  folly 

Of  those,  forgetting  the  great  place  of  rest, 
Who  give  themselves  to  architecture  wholly ; 

We  know  where  things  and  men  must  end  at  best : 
A  moral  (like  all  morals)  melancholy, 

And  "  Et  sepulchri  immemor  struis  domos"(2) 

Shows  that  we  build  when  we  should  but  entomb  us. 


crumbled  into  du»t,  as  to  be  wholly  undistinguishable  but  by  a  few  in. 
equalities  of  the  surface  on  which  they  once  stood.  The  humble  tent  of  the 
Arab  now  occupies  the  spot  formerly  adorned  with  the  palaces  of  kings, 
aod  his  flocks  procure  but  a  scanty  pittance  of  food,  amidst  the  fallen  frag- 
mtoU  of  ancient  magnificence.  The  banks  of  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris, 
oooe  to  prolific,  are  now,  for  the  most  part,  covered  with  impenetrable 
bruihwood;  and  the  interior  of  the  province,  which  was  traversed  and 
fatUiMd  with  innumerable  canals,  is  destitute  of  either  inhabitants  or 
¥«litrtion.  —  MoEiBB.] 

(1)  ["  Two  Memoirs  on  the  Ruins  of  Babylon,  by  Claudius  James  Rich, 
Eiq.,  Resident  tat  the  East  India  Company  at  the  Court  of  the  Pasha  of 

(2)  ["  Tu  secanda  marmora 

Locas  tub  ipsum  funus,  et  sepulchri 
Immemor  struis  domos."  —  Hor. 

••  D«y  prewet  on  the  heels  of  day, 
Aod  moons  increase  to  their  decay ; 
But  you,  with  thoughtless  pride  elate, 
UoeoiMcious  of  impending  fate, 

ind  the  pillar 'd  dome  to  rise, 
,  lol  the  tomb  forgotten  lies."  — Fkancis.] 
G    2 


84«  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

LXIV. 

At  last  they  reachM  a  quarter  most  retired, 
Where  echo  woke  as  if  from  a  long  slumber ; 

Though  full  of  all  things  which  could  be  desired, 
One  wonder'd  what  to  do  with  such*  a  number 

Of  articles  which  nobody  required ;  -^ 

Here  wealth  had  done  its  utmost  to  encumber    Ij 

With  furniture  an  exquisite  apartment. 

Which  puzzled  Nature  much  toknow  what  Art  meant 

LXV. 

It  seem'd,  however,  but  to  open  on 

A  range  or  suite  of  further  chambers,  which 

Might  lead  to  heaven  knows  where ;  but  in  this  one 
The  moveables  were  prodigally  rich : 

Sofas  'twas  half  a  sin  to  sit  upon. 

So  costly  were  they ;  carpets  every  stitch 

Of  workmanship  so  rare,  they  made  you  wish 

You  could  gUde  o'er  them  like  a  golden  fish.(') 

LXVI. 

The  black,  however,  without  hardly  deigning 

A  glance  at  that  which  wrapt  the  slaves  in  wonder, 

Trampled  what  they  scarce  trod  for  fear  of  staining, 
As  if  the  milky  way  their  feet  was  under 

With  all  its  stars  ;  and  with  a  stretch  attaining 
A  certain  press  or  cupboard  niched  in  yonder — 

In  that  remote  recess  which  you  may  see — 

Or  if  you  don't  the  fault  is  not  in  me, — 

(1)  [MS.  —  *•  That  you  could  but  glide  o'er  them  like  a  fish."] 


VTOV.  DON   JUAN.  85 

LXVII. 

I  wish  to  be  perspicuous ;  and  the  black, 
I  say,  unlocking  the  recess,  pull'd  forth 

A  quantity  of  clothes  fit  for  the  back 
Of  any  Mussulman,  whate'er  his  worth ; 

And  of  variety  there  was  no  lack — 
And  yet,  though  I  have  said  there  was  no  dearth, — 

He  chose  himself  to  point  out  what  he  thought 

Most  proper  for  the  Christians  he  had  bought. 


LXVIII. 

The  suit  he  thought  most  suitable  to  each 
Was,  for  the  elder  and  the  stouter,  first 

A  Candiote  cloak,  which  to  the  knee  might  reach. 
And  trousers  not  so  tight  that  they  would  burst. 

But  such  as  fit  an  Asiatic  breech ; 

A  shawl,  whose  folds  in  Cashmire  had  been  nurst, 

Slippers  of  saffron,  dagger  rich  and  handy ; 

In  short,  all  things  which  form  a  Turkish  Dandy. 


LXIX. 

While  he  was  dressing,  Baba,  their  black  friend, 
Hinted  the  vast  advantages  which  they 

Might  probably  obtain  both  in  the  end, 
If  they  would  but  pursue  the  proper  way 

^Vhich  Fortune  plainly  seem'd  to  recommend ; 
And  then  he  added,  that  he  needs  must  say, 

"  T would  greatly  tend  to  better  their  condition, 

If  they  would  condescend  to  circumcision. 
G  3 


86  DON   JUAN.  CANTO 

LXX. 

"  For  his  own  part,  he  really  should  rejoice 
To  see  them  true  believers,  but  no  less 

Would  leave  his  proposition  to  their  choice." 
The  other,  thanking  him  for  this  excess 

Of  goodness,  in  thus  leaving  them  a  voice 
In  such  a  trifle,  scarcely  could  express 

"  Sufficiently"  (he  said)  "  his  approbation 

Of  all  the  customs  of  this  polish'd  nation. 

LXXI. 

"  For  his  own  share — he  saw  but  small  objection 

To  so  respectable  an  ancient  rite ; 
And,. after  swallowing  down  a  slight  refection, 

For  which  he  own'd  a  present  appetite, 
He  doubted  not  a  few  hours  of  reflection 

Would  reconcile  him  to  the  business  quite." 
"  Will  it?"  said  Juan,  sharply:  "  Strike  me  dead, 
But  they  as  goon  shall  circumcise  my  head  !(i) 


LXX  1 1. 

"  Cut  off  a  thousand  heads,  before "  — "  Now, 

pray," 

Replied  the  other,  "  do  not  interrupt : 
You  put  me  out  in  what  I  had  to  say. 

Sir  I — as  I  said,  as  soon  as  I  have  supt, 
I  shall  perpend  if  your  proposal  may 

Be  such  as  I  can  properly  accept ; 
Provided  always  your  great  goodness  still 
Remits  the  matter  to  our  own  free-will." 

(1)  [MS.  —  "  If  they  shall  not  as  soon  cut  oflf  my  head."]    . 


I 


-%vrov.  DON   JUAN.  87 

LXXIII. 

Irdhd  eyed  Juan,  and  said,  "  Be  so  good 

As  dress  yourself — "  and  pointed  out  a  suit 

In  which  a  Princess  with  great  pleasure  would 
Array  her  limbs ;  but  Juan  standing  mute, 

As  not  being  in  a  masquerading  mood, 

Gave  it  a  slight  kick  with  his  Christian  foot ; 

And  when  the  old  negro  told  him  to  "  Get  ready," 

Replied,  "  Old  gentleman,  I'm  not  a  lady." 


LXXIV. 

What  you  may  be,  I  neither  know  nor  care," 

Said  Baba ;  "  but  pray  do  as  I  desire : 
I  have  no  more  time  nor  many  Avords  to  spare." 

"  At  least,"  said  Juan,  "  sure  I  may  enquire 
The  cause  of  this  odd  travesty?" — "  Forbear," 

Said  Baba,  "  to  be  curious ;  'twill  transpire. 
No  doubt,  in  proper  place,  and  time,  and  season : 
I  have  no  authority  to  tell  the  reason." 


LXXV. 

"Then  if  I  do,"  said  Juan,  "Til  be "—"Hold!" 

Rejoin'd  the  negro,  "  pray  be  not  provoking ; 

This  spirit's  well,  but  it  may  wax  too  bold. 
And  you  will  find  us  not  too  fond  of  joking." 

"  What,  sir  I"  said  Juan,  "  shall  it  e'er  be  told 
That  I  unsexM  my  dress  ?  "     But  Baba,  stroking 

The  things  down,  said,  "  Incense  me,  and  I  call 

Those  who  will  leave  you  of  no  sex  at  all. 
G  4 


88  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

LXXVI. 

"  I  offer  you  a  handsome  suit  of  clothes : 
A  woman's,  true ;  but  then  there  is  a  cause 

Why  you  should  wear  them."  —  "What,  though  my 
soul  loathes 
The  effeminate  garb  ?" — thus,  after  a  short  pause, 

Sigh'd  Juan,  muttering  also  some  slight  oaths, 
"  What  the  devil  shall  I  do  with  all  this  gauze?" 

Thus  he  profanely  term'd  the  finest  lace 

Which  e'er  set  off  a  marriage-morning  face. 

LXXVI  I. 

And  then  he  swore ;  and,  sighing,  on  he  slipp'd 
A  pair  of  trousers  of  flesh-colour'd  silk ; 

Next  with  a  virgin  zone  he  was  equipp'd, 

Which  girt  a  slight  chemise  as  white  as  milk ;  (^) 

But  tugging  on  his  petticoat,  he  tripp'd, 

Wliich — as  we  say — or,  as  the  Scotch  say,  whilk, 

(The  rhyme  obliges  me  to  this ;  sometimes 

Monarchs  are  less  imperative  than  rhymes) — C^^) 

LXXVIII. 

Whilk,  which  (or  what  you  please),  was  owing  to 
His  garment's  novelty,  and  his  being  awkward : 

And  yet  at  last  he  managed  to  get  through 
His  toilet,  though  no  doubt  a  little  backward : 

(1)  ["  The  first  part  of  my  dress  is  a  pair  of  drawers,  very  full,  that 
reach  to  my  shoes,  and  conceal  the  legs  more  modestly  than  your  English 
petticoats.  They  are  of  a  thin  rose-coloured  damask,  brocaded  with  silver 
flowers.  Over  this  hangs  my  smock,  of  a  fine  white  silk  gauze,  embroi- 
dered  with  gold.  This  smock  has  wide  sleeves,  hanging  half-way  down 
the  arm,  and  is  closed  at  the  neck  with  a  diamond  button."  —  Lady 
M.  W.  Montagu.] 

(2)  [MS.  —  "  Kings  are  not  more  imperative  than  rhymes."] 


CAKTO  ▼. 


DON   JUAX.  89 


The  negro  Baba  help'd  a  little  too, 

When  some  untoward  part  of  raiment  stuck  hard ; 
And,  wrestling  both  his  arms  into  a  gown. 
He  paused,  and  took  a  survey  up  and  down. 

LXXIX. 

One  difficulty  still  remain'd — his  hair 

Was  hardly  long  enough ;  but  Baba  found 

So  many  false  long  tresses  all  to  spare. 

That  soon  his  head  was  most  completely  crown'd, 

After  the  manner  then  in  fashion  there ; 

And  this  addition  with  such  gems  was  bound 

As  suited  the  ensemble  of  his  toilet, 

WTiile  Baba  made  him  comb  his  head  and  oil  it. 

LXXX. 

And  now  being  femininely  all  array 'd,       [tweezers. 
With  some  small   aid   from  scissors,  paint,  and 

He  look'd  in  almost  all  respects  a  maid,  Q) 

And  Baba  smilingly  exclaim'd,  "  You  see,  sirs, 

A  perfect  transformation  here  display'd ; 

And  now,  then,  you  must  come  along  with  me,  sirs. 

That  is  —  the  Lady:"  clapping  his  hands  twice, 

Four  blacks  were  at  his  elbow  in  a  trice. 

LXXXI. 

"  You,  sir,"  said  Baba,  nodding  to  the  one, 
**  Will  please  to  accompany  those  gentlemen 

To  supper ;  but  you,  worthy  Christian  nun, 
Will  follow  me :  no  trifling,  sir ;  for  when 

(1)  [Ma  —  "  He  look'd  in  all  save  modesty  a  maid. "3 


I 


90  DON   JUAN.  CA> 

I  say  a  thing,  it  must  at  once  be  done. 

What  fear  you  ?  think  you  this  a  lion's  den  ? 
Why,  't  is  a  palace  ;  where  the  truly  wise 
Anticipate  the  Prophet's  paradise. 

Lxxxir. 
**  You  fool !  I  tell  you  no  one  means  you  harm." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  Juan  said,  "  for  them ; 
Else  they  shall  feel  the  weight  of  this  my  arm. 

Which  is  not  quite  so  light  as  you  may  deem. 
I  yield  thus  far ;  but  soon  will  break  the  charm 

If  any  take  me  for  that  which  I  seem : 
So  that  I  trust  for  every  body's  sake, 
That  this  disguise  may  lead  to  no  mistake." 


LXXXIII. 

"  Blockhead  !  come  on,  and  see,"  quoth  Baba ;  while 
Don  Juan,  turning  to  his  comrade,  who 

Though  somewhat  grieved,  could  scarce  forbear  a 
smile 
Upon  the  metamorphosis  in  view, — 

"  Farewell ! "  they  mutually  exclaim'd :  "  this  soil 
Seems  fertile  in  adventures  strange  and  new ; 

One's  turn'd  half  Mussulman,  and  one  a  maid, 

By  this  old  black  enchanter's  unsought  aid. 

LXXXIV. 

"  Farewell !"  said  Juan :  "  should  we  meet  no  more, 
I  wish  you  a  good  appetite." — "  Farewell ! " 

Replied  the  other ;  "  though  it  grieves  me  sore ; 
When  we  next  meet,  we'll  have  a  tale  to  tell: 


CASTO  T.  DON    JUAN.  91 

We  needs  must  follow  when  Fate  puts  from  shore. 
Keep  your  good  name ;  though  Eve  herself  once 
fell."  [carry  me, 

"  Nay,"  quoth  the  maid,  "  the  Sultan's  self  shan't 
Unless  his  highness  promises  to  marry  me." 

LXXXV. 

And  thus  they  parted,  each  by  separate  doors ; 

Baba  led  Juan  onward  room  by  room 
Through  glittering  galleries,  and  o'er  marble  floors, 

Till  a  gigantic  portal  through  the  gloom. 
Haughty  and  huge,  along  the  distance  lowers; 

Vnd  wafted  far  arose  a  rich  perfume : 
it  seem'd  as  though  they  came  upon  a  shrine, 
For  all  was  vast,  still,  fragrant,  and  divine. 

LXXXVI. 

The  giant  door  was  broad,  and  bright,  and  high, 
Of  gilded  bronze,  and  carved  in  curious  guise ; 

Warriors  thereon  were  battling  furiously ; 

Here  stalks  the  victor,  there  the  vanquish'd  lies ; 

There  captives  led  in  triumph  droop  the  eye. 
And  in  perspective  many  a  squadron  flies : 

It  seems  the  work  of  times  before  the  line 

Of  Rome  transplanted  fell  with  Constantine. 

LXXXVI  I. 

This  massy  portal  stood  at  the  wide  close 
Of  a  huge  hall,  and  on  its  either  side 

Two  little  dwarfs,  the  least  you  could  suppose, 
Were  sate,  like  ugly  imps,  as  if  allied 


92  DON  JUAN.  CAN 

In  mockery  to  the  enormous  gate  which  rose 

O'er  them  in  almost  pyramidic  pride : 
The  gate  so  splendid  was  in  all  its  features,  Q) 
You  never  thought  about  those  little  creatures, 


I 


LXXXVIIl. 

Until  you  nearly  trod  on  them,  and  then 
You  started  back  in  horror  to  survey 

The  wondrous  hideousness  of  those  small  men. 
Whose  colour  was  not  black,  nor  white,  nor  grey, 

But  an  extraneous  mixture,  which  no  pen 
Can  trace,  although  perhaps  the  pencil  may ; 

They  were  mis-shapen  pigmies,  deaf  and  dumb — 

Monsters,  who  cost  a  no  less  monstrous  sum. 

LXXXIX. 

Their  duty  was — for  they  were  strong,  and  though 
They  look'd  so  little,  did  strong  things  at  times  — 

To  ope  this  door,  which  they  could  really  do. 
The  hinges  being  as  smooth  as  Rogers'  rhymes ; 

And  now  and  then,  with  tough  strings  of  the  bow, 
As  is  the  custom  of  those  Eastern  climes. 

To  give  some  rebel  Pacha  a  cravat ; 

For  mutes  are  generally  used  for  that. 


(1)  Features  of  a  gate  —  a  ministerial  metaphor:   "  the  feature  upon 
which  this  question  hinges."    See  the  "  Fudge  Family,"  or  hear  Castle- 
reagh.  —  [Phil.  Fudge,  in  his  letter  to  Lord  Castlereagh,  says  : 
"  As  thou  would'st  say,  my  guide  and  teacher 
In  these  gay  metaphoric  fringes, 
I  now  embark  into  the  feature 
On  which  this  letter  chiefly  hinges." 
The  note  adds,  "  verbatim  from  one  of  the  noble  Viscount's  speeches  t 
And  now,  sir,  I  must  embark  into  the  feature  on  which  this  question  chi^t/ 
hinges."  —  Fudge  Famili/,  p.  li.J 


CAKTOT.  DON    JUAN.  93 

XC. 

They  spoke  by  signs — that  is,  not  spoke  at  all; 

And  looking  like  two  incubi,  they  glared 
As  Baba  with  his  fingers  made  them  fall 

To  heaving  back  the  portal  folds :  it  scared 
Juan  a  moment,  as  this  pair  so  small, 

With  shrinking  serpent  optics  on  him  stared ; 
It  was  as  if  their  little  looks  could  poison 
Or  fascinate  whome'er  they  fix'd  their  eyes  on. 

xci. 
Before  they  enter'd,  Baba  paused  to  hint 

To  Juan  some  slight  lessons  as  his  guide : 
"  If  you  could  just  contrive,'  he  said,  "  to  stint 

That  somewhat  manly  majesty  of  stride,       [in't) 
T  would  be  as  well,  and,  —  (though  there's  not  much 

To  swing  a  little  less  from  side  to  side. 
Which  has  at  times  an  aspect  of  the  oddest ; — 
And  also  could  you  look  a  little  modest, 

XCII. 

"   T  would  be  convenient ;  for  these  mutes  have  eyes 
Like  needles,  which  may  pierce  those  petticoats ; 

And  if  they  should  discover  your  disguise. 

You  know  how  near  us  the  deep  Bosphorus  floats ; 

And  you  and  I  may  chance,  ere  morning  rise. 
To  find  our  way  to  Marmora  without  boats, 

Stitch'd  up  in  sacks — a  mode  of  navigation 

A  good  deal  practised  here  upon  occasion."  (*) 

(I)  A  few  ye»n  ago  the  wife  of  Muchtar  Pacha  complained  to  hit  father 
•r  hi*  ton's  tuppoMd  infidelity :  he  asked  with  whom,  and  she  had  tho 
to  gire  in  a  list  of  the  twdve  handsomest  women  in  Yanina 


94?  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

XCIII. 

With  this  encouragement,  he  led  the  way 
Into  a  room  still  nobler  than  the  last ; 

A  rich  confusion  form'd  a  disarray 

In  such  sort,  that  the  eye  along  it  cast 

Could  hardly  carry  any  thing  away. 

Object  on  object  flash'd  so  bright  and  fast ; 

A  dazzling  mass  of  gems,  and  gold,  and  glitter. 

Magnificently  mingled  in  a  litter. 

xciv. 
Wealth  had  done  wonders — taste  not  much;  such 

Occur  in  Orient  palaces,  and  even  [things 

In  the  more  chasten'd  domes  of  Western  kings 

(Of  which  I  have  also  seen  some  six  or  seven) 
Where  I  can't  say  or  gold  or  diamond  flings 

Great  lustre,  there  is  much  to  be  forgiven ; 
Groups  of  bad  statues,  tables,  chairs,  and  pictures, 
On  which  I  cannot  pause  to  make  my  strictures. 

xcv. 
In  this  imperial  hall,  at  distance  lay 

Under  a  canopy,  and  there  reclined 
Quite  in  a  confidential  queenly  way,'(^) 

A  lady ;  Baba  stopp'd,  and  kneeling  sign'd 


They  were  seized,  fastened  up  in  sacks,  and  drowned  in  the  lake  the  same 
night.  One  of  the  guards  who  was  present  informed  me,  that  not  one 
of  the  victims  uttered  a  cry,  or  showed  a  symptom  of  terror  at  so  sudden 
a  "  wrench  from  all  we  know,  from  all  we  love."  [See  anU,  VoL  IX. 
pp.  145.  200.] 

(I)  ["  On  a  sofa,  raised  three  steps,  and  covered  with  fine  Persian  carpets,  . 
sat  the  kiyaya's  lady,  leaning  on  cushions  of  white  satin,  embroidered,"  &c* 
Lady  M.  W.  Montagu.] 


CAJfTOT.  DON   JUAN.  95 

To  Juan,  who  though  not  much  used  to  pray, 

Knelt  down  by  instinct,  wondering  in  his  mind 
What  all  this  meant :  while  Baba  bow'd  and  bended 
^'■^  head,  until  the  ceremony  ended. 

xcvr. 
The  lady  rising  up  with  such  an  air 

As  Venus  rose  with  from  the  wave,  on  them 
Bent  like  an  antelope  a  Paphian  pair(^) 

Of  eyes,  which  put  out  each  surrounding  gem ; 
And  raising  up  an  arm  as  moonlight  fair. 

She  sign'd  to  Baba,  who  first  kiss'd  the  hem 
Of  her  deep  purple  robe,  and  speaking  low, 
Pointed  to  Juan,  who  remain'd  below. 

XCVII. 

Her  presence  was  as  lofty  as  her  state ; 

Her  beauty  of  that  overpowering  kind, 
Whose  force  description  only  would  abate : 

I'd  rather  leave  it  much  to  your  own  mind, 
Than  lessen  it  by  what  I  could  relate 

Of  forms  and  features ;  it  would  strike  you  blind 
Could  I  do  justice  to  the  full  detail ; 
So,  luckily  for  both,  my  phrases  fail. 

XCVIII. 

Thus  much  however  I  may  add,  —  her  years 

Were  ripe,  they  might  make  six-and- twenty  springs, 

But  there  are  forms  which  Time  to  touch  forbears, 
And  turns  aside  his  scythe  to  vulgar  things,  (2) 


(I)  [MS.  —     "  Ai  Ventu  row  from  ocean  —  bent  on  them 

With  a  fiir.reachmg  glance,  a  Paphian  pair."] 
TO  CMS.  —  •*  But  there  are  formi  which  Time  adorn*,  not  wean. 
And  to  which  beauty  obstinately  cling*."] 


96  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

Such  as  was  Mary's  Queen  of  Scots  ;(^)  true — tears 

And  love  destroy ;  and  sapping  sorrow  wrings 
Charms  from  the  charmer,  yet  some  never  grow 
Ugly;  for  instance — Ninon  de  rEnclos.(-) 

XCIX. 

She  spake  some  words  to  her  attendants,  who 
Composed  a  choir  of  girls,  ten  or  a  dozen. 

And  were  all  clad  alike ;  (*^)  like  Juan^  too. 
Who  wore  their  uniform,  by  Baba  chosen : 


(1)  [With  regard  to  the  queen's  person,  all  contemporary  authors  agree 
in  ascribing  to  Mary  the  utmost  beauty  of  countenance,  and  elegance  of 
shape,  of  which  the  human  form  is  capable.  Her  hair  was  black,  though, 
according  to  the  fashion  of  that  age,  she  frequently  wore  borrowed  locks, 
and  of  different  colours.  Her  eyes  were  a  dark  grey  ;  her  complexion  was 
exquisitely  fine  ;  and  her  hands  and  arms  remarkably  delicate,  both  as  to 
shape  and  colour.  Her  stature  was  of  a  height  that  rose  to  the  majestic 
She  danced,  walked,  and  rode  with  equal  grace.  Her  taste  for  music  was 
just,  and  she  both  sang  and  played  upon  the  lute  with  uncommon  skill.  No 
man,  says  Brantome,  ever  beheld  her  person  without  admiration  and  love, 
or  will  read  her  history  without  sorrow.  —  Robertson.] 

(2)  [Mademoiselle  de  I'Enclos,  celebrated  for  her  beauty,  her  wit,  her 
gallantry,  and,  above  all,  for  the  extraordinary  length  of  time  during  which 
she  preserved  her  attractions.  She.intrigued  with  the  young  gentlemen  of 
three  generations,  and  is  said  to  have  had  a  grandson  of  her  own  among 
her  lovers.  See  the  works  of  Madame  de  Sevigne,  Voltaire,  &c.  &c.  for 
copious  particulars- of  her  life.  The  Biographic  Universelle  says  —  "In 
her  old  age,  her  house  was  the  rendezvous  of  the  most  distinguished 
persons.  Scarron  consulted  her  on  his  romances,  St  Evremond  on  his 
poems,  Moliere  on  his  comedies,  Fontenelle  on  his  dialogues,  and  La 
Rochefoucault  on  his  maxims.  Coligny,  Sevigne,  &c.  were  her  lovers 
and  friends.  At  her  death,  in  1705,  and  in  her  ninetieth  year,  she 
bequeathed  to  Voltaire  a  considerable  sum,  to  expend  in  books."  —  E.] 

(3)  ["  Her  fair  maids  were  ranged  below  the  sofa,  and,  to  the  number 
of  twenty,  were  all  dresse<l  in  fine  light  damasks,  brocaded  with  silver. 
They  put  me  in  mind  of  the  pictures  of  the  ancient  nymphs.  I  did  not 
think  all  nature  could  have  furnished  such  a  scene  of  beauty,"  &c  — 
Ladt  M.  W.  Montagu.] 


CAXTOT.  DON    JUAN.  97 

They  form'd  a  very  nymph-like  looking  crew, 

Which  might  have  call'd  Diana's  chorus  "  cousin," 
As  far  as  outward  show  may  correspond ; 
I  won't  be  bail  for  any  thing  beyond. 

c. 
They  bow'd  obeisance  and  withdrew,  retiring. 

But  not  by  the  same  door  through  which  came  in 
Baba  and  Juan,  which  last  stood  admiring. 

At  some  small  distance,  all  he  saw  within 
This  strange  saloon,  much  fitted  for  inspiring 

Marvel  and  praise ;  for  both  or  none  things  win ; 
And  I  must  say,  I  ne'er  could  see  the  very 
Great  happiness  of  the  "  Nil  Admirari.''(i) 

CI. 

"  Not  to  admire  is  all  the  art  I  know  [speech) 

(Plain  truth,  dear  Murray,  (-)  needs  few  flowers  of 

To  make  men  happy,  or  to  keep  them  so;" 
(So  take  it  in  the  very  words  of  Creech), 

Thus  Horace  wrote  we  all  know  long  ago  ; 

And  thus  Pope(-^)  quotes  the  precept  to  re-teach 

From  his  translation  ;  but  had  none  admired. 

Would  Pope  have  sung,  or  Horace  been  inspired  ?  (^) 

(I)  ["  Nil  ■dmifMi,  prope  re«  e»t  una,  Numici, 

Bolaqat  qam  poMit  faccre  et  servarc  beatum."  — 

HoR.  lib.  i.  epist  vl] 
T;  rrbe  •*  Morrty  "  of  Pope  was  the  great  Earl  Mansfield] 

(3)  rNottoadaln,toaQtheartIknow 

To  inaka  bmi  liappy,  and  to  keep  them  so, 

(Plain  truth,  dear  Murray,  needs  no  flowers  of  speech. 

So  take  it  In  the  wy  words  of  Creech."}] 

(4)  [**  I  nudntaiocd  that  Horace  was  wrong  in  placing  happiness  in  nil 
aimirari,  te  that  I  thought  admiration  one  of  the  most  agreeable  of  all 

VOL.  XVI.  H 


98  DON   JUAN.  CANTON 

CII. 

Baba,  when  all  the  damsels  were  withdrawn, 
Motion'd  to  Juan  to  approach,  and  then 

A  second  time  desired  him  to  kneel  down, 
And  kiss  the  lady's  foot ;  which  maxim  when 

He  heard  repeated,  Juan  with  a  frown 
Drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height  again, 

And  said,  "  It  grieved  him,  but  he  could  not  stoop 

To  any  shoe,  unless  it  shod  the  Pope." 


cm. 
Baba,  indignant  at  this  ill-timed  pride. 

Made  fierce  remonstrances,  and  then  a  threat 
He  mutter'd  (but  the  last  was  given  aside) 

About  a  bow-string — quite  in  vain  ;  not  yet 
Would  Juan  bend,  though  'twere  to  Mahomet's  bride: 

There 's  nothing  in  the  world  like  etiquette 
In  kingly  chambers  or  imperial  halls, 
As  also  at  the  race  and  county  balls.  Q) 


our  feelings ;  and  I  regretted  that  I  had  lost  much  of  my  disposition  to  ad- 
mire, which  people  generally  do  as  they  advance  in  life.  "  Sir,"  said 
Johnson,  "  as  a  man  advances  in  life,  he  gets  what  is  better  than  admir. 
ation  — judgment,  to  estimate  things  at  their  true  value."  I  still  insisted 
that  admiration  was  more  pleasing  than  judgment,  as  love  is  more  pleasing 
than  friendship.  The  feeling  of  friendship  is  like  that  of  being  comfort- 
ably filled  with  roast  beef;  love,  like  being  enlivened  with  champagna 
JoHVsox,  "  No,  Sir;  admiration  and  love  are  like  being  intoxicated  with 
champagne;  judgment  and  friendship  like  being  enlivened.  Waller  [[has 
hit  upon  the  same  thought  with  you ;  but  I  don't  believe  you  have  bor- 
rowed  from  Waller."  —  CKOVi&vi's  Boswell,  vol.  iil  p.  236.] 

(1)  [MS.  —  "  I  've  also  seen  it  at  provincial  balls."] 


DON   JUAN.  99 

CIV. 

He  stood  like  Atlas,  with  a  world  of  words 
About  his  ears,  and  natliless  would  not  bend ; 

The  blood  of  all  his  line's  Castilian  lords 
Boifd  in  his  veins,  and  rather  than  descend 

To  stain  his  pedigree  a  thousand  swords 
A  thousand  times  of  him  had  made  an  end ; 

At  length  perceiving  the  ^^  fooC  could  not  stand, 

Baba  proposed  tliat  he  should  kiss  the  hand. 

cv. 
Here  was  an  honourable  compromise, 

A  half-way  house  of  diplomatic  rest, 
Where  they  might  meet  in  much  more  peaceful  guise; 

And  Juan  now  his  willingness  exprest. 
To  use  all  fit  and  proper  courtesies, 

Adding,  that  this  was  commonest  and  best. 
For  through  the  South,  the  custom  still  commands 
The  gentleman  to  kiss  the  lady's  hands. 

cvi. 
And  he  advanced,  though  with  but  a  bad  grace, 

I'hough  on  more  thorough-hred Q)  or  fairer  fingers 
So  Ups  e'er  left  their  transitory  trace: 

On  such  as  these  the  lip  too  fondly  lingers, 
And  for  one  kiss  would  fain  imprint  a  brace, 

As  you  will  see,  if  she  you  love  shall  bring  hers 
In  contact ;  and  sometimes  even  a  fair  stranger's 
An  almost  twelvemonth's  constancy  endangers. 

(1)  There  i*  nothing,  perhapt,  more  distinctive  of  birth  than  the  hand. 
It  Is  almmt  the  only  lign  of  blood  which  aristocracy  can  generata    [See 

H  2 


100  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

evil. 
The  lady  eyed  him  o'er  and  o'er,  and  bade 

Baba  retire,  which  he  obey'd  in  style, 
As  if  well-used  to  the  retreating  trade ; 

And  taking  hints  in  good  part  all  the  while. 
He  whisper' d  Juan  not  to  be  afraid. 

And  looking  on  him  with  a  sort  of  smile, 
Took  leave,  with  such  a  face  of  satisfaction, 
As  good  men  wear  who  have  done  a  virtuous  action. 


CVIII. 

When  he  was  gone,  there  was  a  sudden  change  : 
I  know  not  what  might  be  the  lady's  thought. 

But  o'er  her  bright  brow  flash'd  a  tumult  strange, 
And  into  her  clear  cheek  the  blood  was  brought, 

Blood-red  as  sunset  summer  clouds  which  range 
The  verge  of  Heaven;  and  in  her  large  eyes  wrought 

A  mixture  of  sensations,  might  be  scann'd. 

Of  half-voluptuousness  and  half  command. 


cix. 

Her  form  had  all  the  softness  of  her  sex. 
Her  features  all  the  sweetness  of  the  devil. 

When  he  put  on  the  cherub  to  perplex 

Eve,  and  paved  (God  knows  how)  the  road  to  evil ; 

The  sun  himself  was  scarce  more  free  from  specks 
Than  she  from  aught  at  which  the  eye  could  cavil ; 

Yet,   somehow,   there   was   something   somewhere 
wanting. 

As  if  she  rather  order  d  than  was  granting. — 


CAVTOT.  DON    JUAN.  101 

ex. 

Something  imperial,  or  imperious,  threw 
A  chain  o'er  all  she  did ;  that  is,  a  chain 

Was  thrown  as  'twere  about  the  neck  of  you, — 
And  rapture's  self  will  seem  almost  a  pain 

With  aught  which  looks  like  despotism  in  view: 
Our  souls  at  least  are  free,  and  'tis  in  vain 

We  would  against  thera  make  the  flesh  obey  — 

The  spirit  in  the  end  will  have  its  wa}^ 


CXI. 

Her  very  smile  was  haughty,  tliough  so  sweet ; 

Her  very  nod  was  not  an  inclination ; 
There  was  a  self-will  even  in  her  small  feet, 

As   though  they  were  quite   conscious  of  her 
station — 
They  trod  as  upon  necks ;  and  to  complete 

Her  state  (it  is  the  custom  of  her  nation), 
A  poniard  deck'd  her  girdle,  as  the  sign 
She  was  a  sultan's  bride,  (thank  Heaven,  not  mine !) 


CXII. 

"  To  hear  and  to  obey"  had  been  from  birth 

The  law  of  all  around  her ;  to  fulfil 
All  phantasies  which  yielded  joy  or  mirth. 

Had  been  her  slaves*  chief  pleasure,  as  her  will ; 
Her  blood  was  high,  her  beauty  scarce  of  earth : 

Judge,  then,  if  her  caprices  e'er  stood  still ; 
Had  she  but  been  a  Christian,  I've  a  notion 
We  should  have  found  out  the  "  perpetual  motion." 
u  3 


102  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  T. 

CXIII. 

Whate'er  she  saw  and  coveted  was  brought ; 

Whate'er  she  did  not  see,  if  she  supposed 
It  might  be  seen,  with  dihgence  was  sought, 

And  when  'twas  found  straightway  the  bargain 
closed: 
There  was  no  end  unto  the  things  she  bought, 

Nor  to  the  trouble  which  her  fancies  caused ; 
Yet  even  her  tyranny  had  such  a  grace. 
The  women  pardon'd  all  except  her  face. 

cxiv. 
Juan,  the  latest  of  her  whims,  had  caught 

Her  eye  in  passing  on  his  way  to  sale  ; 
She  order'd  him  directly  to  be  bought, 

And  Baba,  who  had  ne'er  been  known  to  fail 
In  any  kind  of  mischief  to  be  wrought. 

At  all  such  auctions  knew  how  to  prevail : 
She  had  no  prudence,  but  he  had  ;  and  this 
Explains  the  garb  which  Juan  took  amiss. 

cxv. 
His  youth  and  features  favour'd  the  disguise. 

And,  should  you  ask  how  she,  a  sultan's  bride, 
Could  risk  or  compass  such  strange  phantasies, 

This  I  must  leave  sultanas  to  decide : 
Emperors  are  only  husbands  in  wives'  eyes, 

And  kings  and  consorts  oft  are  mystified,  (^) 
As  we  may  ascertain  with  due  precision. 
Some  by  experience,  others  by  tradition. 

(1)  [[MS.  —  "  And  husbands  now  and  then  are  mystified. "3 


CAXiov.  DON   JUAN.  103 

CXVI. 

But  to  the  main  point,  where  we  have  been  tending : — 
She  now  conceived  all  difficulties  past, 

\rjd  deem'd  herself  extremely  condescending 
When,  being  made  her  property  at  last, 

Without  more  preface,  in  her  blue  eyes  blending 
Passion  and  power,  a  glance  on  him  she  cast, 

And  merely  saying,  "  Christian,  canst  thou  love  ?  " 

Conceived  that  phrase  was  quite  enough  to  move. 


CXVII. 

And  80  it  was,  in  proper  time  and  place ; 

But  Juan,  who  had  still  his  mind  o'erflowing 
With  Haidee's  isle  and  soft  Ionian  face. 

Felt  the  warm  blood,  which  in  his  face  was  glowing. 
Rush  back  upon  his  heart,  which  fill'd  apace, 

And  left  his  cheeks  as  pale  as  snowdrops  blowing : 
These  words  went  through  his  soul  like  Arab-spears, 
So  that  he  spoke  not,  but  burst  into  tears. 


CXVIII. 

She  was  a  good  deal  shock' d ;  not  shock'd  at  tears. 
For  women  shed  and  use  them  at  their  liking ; 

But  there  is  something  when  man's  eye  appears 
Wet,  still  more  disagreeable  and  striking : 

A  woman's  tear-drop  melts,  a  man's  half  sears. 
Like  molten  lead,  as  if  you  thrust  a  pike  in 

His  heart  to  force  it  out,  for  (to  be  shorter) 

To  them  't  is  a  relief,  to  us  a  torture. 
H  4 


104  DON   JUAN.  CA>-TO> 

CXIX. 

And  she  would  have  consoled,  but  knew  not  how : 
Having  no  equals,  nothing  which  had  e'er 

Infected  her  with  sympathy  till  now,  (^) 

And  never  having  dreamt  what  'twas  to  bear 

Aught  of  a  serious,  sorrowing  kind,  although 
There  might  arise  some  pouting  petty  care 

To  cross  her  brow,  she  wonder'd  how  so  near 

Her  eyes  another's  eye  could  shed  a  tear. 


cxx. 

But  nature  teaches  more  than  power  can  spoil,  (2) 
And,  when  a  strong  although  a  strange  sensation 

Moves — female  hearts  are  such  a  genial  soil 
For  kinder  feelings,  whatsoe'er  their  nation, 

They  naturally  pour  the  "  wine  and  oil," 
Samaritans  in  every  situation ; 

And  thus  Gulbeyaz,  though  she  knew  not  why, 

Felt  an  odd  glistening  moisture  in  her  eye. 


CXXI. 

But  tears  must  stop  like  all  things  else ;  and  soon 
Juan,  who  for  an  instant  had  been  moved 

To  such  a  sorrow  by  the  intrusive  tone 

Of  one  who  dared  to  ask  if  "  he  had  loved, " 


(1)  [MS.  —  — ^  "  nothing  which  had  e'er 

Exacted  a  true  sympathy  till  now."] 

(2)  [MS.  —  "  But  nature  teaches  what  power  cannot  spoil. 

And,  though  it  was  a  new  and  strange  sensation, 
Young  female  hearts  are  such  a  genial  soil 
For  kinder  feelings,  she  forgot  her  station."] 


CAsrroT.  DON  JUAN.  105 

Call'd  back  the  stoic  to  his  eyes,  which  shone 
Bright  witli  the  very  weakness  he  reproved; 
And  although  sensitive  to  beauty,  he 
Felt  most  indignant  still  at  not  being  free. 

CXXII. 

Gulbeyaz,  for  the  first  time  in  her  days. 
Was  much  embarrass'd,  never  having  met 

In  all  her  life  with  aught  save  prayers  and  praise ; 
And  as  she  also  risk'd  her  life  to  get 

Him  whom  she  meant  to  tutor  in  love's  ways 
Into  a  comfortable  tete-a-tete, 

To  lose  the  hour  would  make  her  quite  a  martyr, 

And  they  had  wasted  now  almost  a  quarter. 

CXXIII. 

I  also  would  suggest  the  fitting  time, 

To  gentlemen  in  any  such  like  case, 
That  is  to  say — in  a  meridian  clime, 

With  us  there  is  more  law  given  to  the  chase, 
But  here  a  small  delay  forms  a  great  crime : 

So  recollect  that  the  extremest  grace 
Is  just  two  minutes  for  your  declaration— 
A  moment  more  would  hurt  your  reputation. 

cxxiv. 
Juan'g  was  good;  and  might  have  been  still  better, 

But  he  had  got  Haidee  into  his  head : 
However  strange,  he  could  not  yet  forget  her. 

Which  made  him  seem  exceedingly  ill-bred. 


106  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V 

Gulbeyaz,  who  look'd  on  him  as  her  debtor 

For  having  had  him  to  her  palace  led, 
Began  to  blush  up  to  the  eyes,  and  then 
Grow  deadly  pale,  and  then  blush  back  again. 

cxxv. 
At  length,  in  an  imperial  way,  she  laid 

Her  hand  on  his,  and  bending  on  him  eyes. 
Which  needed  not  an  empire  to  persuade, 

Look'd  into  his  for  love,  where  none  replies : 
Her  brow  grew  black,  but  she  would  not  upbraid, 

That  being  the  last  thing  a  proud  woman  tries ; 
She  rose,  and  pausing  one  chaste  moment,  threw 
Herself  upon  his  breast,  and  there  she  grew. 

cxxvi. 
This  was  an  awkward  test,  as  Juan  found, 

But  he  was  steel'd  by  sorrow,  wrath,  and  pride : 
With  gentle  force  her  white  arms  he  unwound, 

And  seated  her  all  drooping  by  his  side, 
Then  rising  haughtily  he  glanced  around, 

And  looking  coldly  in  her  face,  he  cried, 
"  The  prison'd  eagle  will  not  pair,  nor  I 
Serve  a  sultana's  sensual  phantasy. 

cxxvii. 
"  Thou  ask'st,  if  I  can  love  ?  be  this  the  proof 

How  much  I  have  loved — that  I  love  not  thee  ! 
In  this  vile  garb,  the  distaff,  web,  and  woof, 

Were  fitter  for  me :  Love  is  for  the  free  ! 


>"ro  V.  DON   JUAN.  107 

un  not  dazzled  by  this  splendid  roof; 

Wliate'er  thy  power,  and  great  it  seems  to  be, 
Heads  bow,  knees  bend,  eyes  watch  around  a  throne, 
And  hands  obey — our  hearts  are  still  our  own." 

CXXVIII. 

This  was  a  truth  to  us  extremely  trite ; 

Not  so  to  her,  who  ne'er  had  heard  such  things : 
She  deem'd  her  least  command  must  yield  delight, 

Earth  being  only  made  for  queens  and  kings. 
If  hearts  lay  on  the  left  side  or  the  right 

She  hardly  knew,  to  such  perfection  brings 
Legitimacy  its  born  votaries,  when 
\  vare  of  their  due  royal  rights  o'er  men. 

cxxix. 
Besides,  as  has  been  said,  she  was  so  fair 

As  even  in  a  much  humbler  lot  had  made 
A  kingdom  or  confusion  any  where, 

And  also,  as  may  be  presumed,  she  laid 
Some  stress  on  charms,  which  seldom  are,  if  e'er, 

By  their  possessors  thrown  into  the  shade : 
She  thought  hers  gave  a  double  "  right  divine ;" 
And  half  of  that  opinion's  also  mine. 

cxxx. 
member,  or  (if  you  can  not)  imagine, 
Ve !  who  have  kept  your  chastity  when  young. 
While  some  more  desperate  dowager  has  been  waging 
Love  with  you,  and  been  in  the  dog-days  stung (i) 

(1)  [M&  — •*  War  with  your  heart  — whom  you,  Ingratca!  have  itung 
By  a  rcAisal,"  Ac] 


108  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

By  your  refusal,  recollect  her  raging ! 

Or  recollect  all  that  was  said  or  sung 
On  such  a  subject ;  then  suppose  the  face 
Of  a  young  downright  beauty  in  this  case. 

cxxxi. 
Suppose, — but  you  already  have  supposed. 

The  spouse  of  Potiphar,  the  Lady  Booby,  (^) 
Phaedra,  (-)  and  all  which  story  has  disclosed 

Of  good  examples ;  pity  that  so  few  by 
Poets  and  private  tutors  are  exposed. 

To  educate — ye  youth  of  Europe — you  by  ! 
But  when  you  have  supposed  the  few  we  know, 
You  can't  suppose  Gulbeyaz'  angry  brow. 

CXXXI  I. 

A  tigress  robb'd  of  young,  a  lioness. 

Or  any  interesting  beast  of  prey. 
Are  similes  at  hand  for  the  distress 

Of  ladies  who  can  not  have  their  own  way ; 

(1)  [In  Fielding's  novel  of  Joseph  Andrews.] 

(2)  ["  But  if  my  boy  with  virtue  be  endued, 

"What  harm  will  beauty  do  him  ?    Nay,  what  good  ? 

Say,  what  avail'd,  of  old,  to  Theseus'  son. 

The  stern  resolve  ?  what  to  Bellerophon  ?  — 

O,  then  did  Phsedra  redden,  then  her  pride 

Took  fire,  to  be  so  stedfastly  denied ! 

Then,  too,  did  Sthenobsea  glow  with  shame, 

And  both  burst  forth  with  unextinguish'd  flame!"— JiA". 

The  adventures  of  Hippolitus,  the  son  of  Theseus,  and  Bellerophon  are 
well  known.  They  were  accused  of  incontinence,  by  the  women  whose 
inordinate  passions  they  had  refused  to  gratify  at  the  expense  of  their  duty, 
and  sacrificed  to  the  fatal  credulity  of  the  husbands  of  the  disappointed 
fair  ones.  It  is  very  probable  that  both  the  stories  are  founded  on  the 
Scripture  account  of  Joseph  and  Potiphar's  wife.  —  Gifford.] 


CAKTOV.  DON    JUAN.  109 

But  though  my  turn  will  not  be  served  with  less, 

These  don't  express  one  half  what  I  should  say : 
For  what  is  stealing  young  ones,  few  or  many, 
To  cutting  short  their  hopes  of  having  any  ? 

CXXXIII. 

The  love  of  offspring 's  nature's  general  law. 

From  tigresses  and  cubs  to  ducks  and  ducklings ; 
There's  nothing  whets  the  beak,  or  arms  the  claw 

Like  an  invasion  of  their  babes  and  sucklings ; 
And  all  who  have  seen  a  human  nursery,  saw 

How  mothers  love  their  children's  squalls  and 
chucklings ; 
This  strong  extreme  effect  (to  tire  no  longer 
Your    patience)    shows    the    cause    must   still   be 
stronger.  (') 

cxxxiv. 
If  I  said  fire  flash'd  from  Gulbeyaz'  eyes, 

Twere  nothing — for  her  eyes  flash'd  always  fire; 
Or  said  her  cheeks  assumed  the  deepest  dyes, 

I  should  but  bring  disgrace  upon  the  dyer, 
So  supernatural  was  her  passion's  rise ; 

For  ne'er  till  now  she  knew  a  check'd  desire : 
Even  ye  who  know  what  a  check'd  woman  is 
(Enough,  God  knows !)  would  much  fall  short  of  this. 

cxxxv. 

Her  iMuc  uiis  but  a  minute's,  and  'twas  well — 
A  moment's  more  had  slain  her ;  but  the  while 

T»  lasted  'twas  like  a  short  glimpse  of  hell : 
Nought's  more  sublime  than  energetic  bile, 

(1)  CMSL  —  **  And  tiiiaitnNlgiecoMdcau«c  (to  tire  no  longer 

Your  patiaiot)  thowi  theflrtt  muat  be  ttill  •tronger/'J 


110  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

Though  horrible  to  see  yet  grand  to  tell, 

Like  ocean  warring  'gainst  a  rocky  isle ; 
And  the  deep  passions  flashing  through  her  form 
Made  her  a  beautiful  embodied  storm. 

cxxxvi. 
A  vulgar  tempest  'twere  to  a  typhoon 

To  match  a  common  fury  with  her  rage, 
And  yet  she  did  not  want  to  reach  the  moon,(i) 

Like  moderate  Hotspur  on  the  immortal  page; (2) 
Her  anger  pitch'd  into  a  lower  tune, 

Perhaps  the  fault  of  her  soft  sex  and  age — 
Her  wish  was  but  to  "  kill,  kill,  kill,"  like  Lear's,  (;^) 
And  then  her  thirst  of  blood  was  quench'd  in  tears. 

CXXXVII. 

A  storm  it  raged,  and  like  the  storm  it  pass'd, 
Pass'd  without  words — in  fact  she  could  not  speak; 

And  then  her  sex's  shame  ('*)  broke  in  at  last, 
A  sentiment  till  then  in  her  but  weak. 

But  now  it  flow'd  in  natural  and  fast. 
As  water  through  an  unexpected  leak. 

For  she  felt  humbled — and  humiliation 

Is  sometimes  good  for  people  in  her  station. 


(1)  ["  By  heaven !  methinks,  it  were  an  easy  leap. 

To  pluck  bright  honour  from  the  pale-faced  moon."  —  Henry  I F.^ 

(2)  [MS.  —  "  Like  natural  Shakspeare  on  the  immortal  pag&"] 

(3)  ["  And  when  I  have  stolen  upon  these  sons-in-law. 

Then  kill,  kill,  kill,  kill,  kill,  kill."  — icar.] 

(4)  [*'  A  woman  scorn'd  is  pitiless  as  (ate, 

For,  there,  the  dread  of  shame  adds  stings  to  hate."  — 

GiFFOED'*  Juvenal.'] 


CAN-TO  V.  DON    JUAN.  Ill 

CXXXVIII. 

It  teaches  them  tliat  they  are  flesh  and  blood, 
It  also  gently  hints  to  them  that  others, 

Although  of  clay,  are  yet  not  quite  of  mud ; 
That  urns  and  pipkins  are  but  fragile  brothers. 

And  works  of  the  same  pottery,  bad  or  good, 
Though  not  all  born  of  the  same  sires  and  mothers: 

It  teaches — Heaven  knows  only  what  it  teaches. 

But  sometimes  it  may  mend,  and  often  reaches.  (^) 

C  XXX IX. 

Her  first  thought  was  to  cut  off  Juan's  head ; 

Her  second,  to  cut  only  his — acquaintance; 
Her  third,  to  ask  him  where  he  had  been  bred ; 

Her  fourth,  to  rally  him  into  repentance ; 
Her  fifth,  to  call  her  maids  and  go  to  bed ; 

Her  sixth,  to  stab  herself;  her  seventh,  to  sentence 
The  lash  to  Baba: — but  her  grand  resource 
Was  to  sit  down  again,  and  cry  of  course. 


She  thought  to  stab  herself,  but  then  she  had 
The  dagger  close  at  hand,  which  made  it  awkward; 

For  Eastern  stays  are  little  made  to  pad. 
So  that  a  poniard  pierces  if  'tis  stuck  hard: 

She  thought  of  killing  Juan — but,  poor  lad ! 
Though  he  deserved  it  well  for  being  so  backward, 

The  cutting  off  his  head  was  not  the  art 

Most  likely  to  attain  her  aim— his  heart. 


(1}  [M5.  —  •*  The  iMMD  BCDdi  more  rarely  than  it  reacbea."J 


112  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

CXLI. 

Juan  was  moved :  he  had  made  up  his  mind 
To  be  impaled,  or  quarter'd  as  a  dish 

For  dogs,  Or  to  be  slain  with  pangs  refined, 
Or  thrown  to  lions,  or  made  baits  for  fish, 

And  thus  heroically  stood  resign'd, 

Rather  than  sin  —  except  to  his  own  wish: 

But  all  his  great  preparatives  for  dying 

Dissolved  like  snow  before  a  woman  crying. 

CXLII. 

As  through  his  palms  Bob  Acres'  valour  oozed,  (^) 
So  Juan's  virtue  ebb'd,  I  know  not  how ; 

And  first  he  wonder'd  why  he  had  refused ; 
And  then,  if  matters  could  be  made  up  now ; 

And  next  his  savage  virtue  he  accused, 
Just  as  a  friar  may  accuse  his  vow, 

Or  as  a  dame  repents  her  of  her  oath, 

Which  mostly  ends  in  some  small  breach  of  both. 

CXLIII. 

So  he  began  to  stammer  some  excuses ; 

But  words  are  not  enough  in  such  a  matter, 
Although  you  borrow'd  all  that  e'er  the  muses 

Have  sung,  or  even  a  Dandy's  dandiest  chatter, 
Or  all  the  figures  Castlereagh  abuses  ;(2) 

Just  as  a  languid  smile  began  to  flatter 
His  peace  was  making,  but  before  he  ventured 
Further,  old  Baba  rather  briskly  enter'd. 

(1)  1^"  Yes,  my  valour  is  certainly  going !  it  is  sneaking  ofFI  —  I  feel  it . 
oozing,  as  it  were,  at  the  palms  of  my  hands !  "  —  Sheridan's  Rivals.'] 

(2)  [MS.  —  "  Or  all  the  stuff  v?hich  utter'd  by  the  '  Blues '  is."] 


^vro  T.  DON   JUAN.  113 

CXLIV. 

Bride  of  the  Sun !  and  Sister  of  the  Moon  !" 

(Twas  thus  he  spake,)  "and  Empress  of  the  Earth ! 
\\'hose  frown  would  put  the  spheres  all  out  of  tune, 

Whose  smile  makes  all  the  planets  dance  with  mirth, 
^  our  slave  brings  tidings  —  he  hopes  not  too  soon  — 

Which  your  sublime  attention  may  be  worth :  (J) 
The  Sun(-)  himself  has  sent  me  like  a  ray 
T.^  Lint  that  he  is  coming  up  this  way." 

CXLV. 

Is  it,"  exclaim'd  Gulbeyaz,  "  as  you  say? 
I  wish  to  heaven  he  would  not  shine  till  morning ! 
But  bid  my  women  form  the  milky  way.  [ing — (^) 
Hence,  my  old  comet!  give  the  stars  due  warn- 
id,  Christian  I  mingle  with  them  as  you  may. 
And  as  you'd  have  me  pardon  your  past  scorn- 
ing  " 

Here  they  were  interrupted  by  a  humming 
Sound,  and  then  by  a  cry,  "  The  Sultan's  coming  I" 

CXLVl. 

rst  came  her  damsels,  a  decorous  file, 
And  then  his  Highness'  eunuchs,  black  and  white; 
I'lie  train  might  reach  a  quarter  of  a  mile: 
His  majesty  was  always  so  polite 

{•/  r^-'i'  ^— "  it  may  be  tco  soon — 

But  your  sublime  attention  they  are  worth."] 

(S)  [The  puNIc  style  and  title  of  the  Sultan  abound  in  Asiatic  hyper- 
tiole  He  I*  rallird  **  Ooremor  of  the  Earth,  Lord  of  three  Continents  and 
Twn  «^i,.-  inl  T„y  frequently  "  Hunkier,  the  Slayer  of  Men."-  Dall*. 

-     t;ut  pritbee  — get  my  women  in  the  way, 

That  all  the  stars  may  gleam  with  due  adorning  'J 
VOL.  XVI.  I 


114  DON    JUAN.  CAN1 

As  to  announce  his  visits  a  long  while 
Before  he  came,  especially  at  night ; 
For  being  the  last  wife  of  the  Emperour, 
She  was  of  course  the  favourite  of  the  four. 

CXLVII. 

His  Highness  was  a  man  of  solemn  port, 

Shawl'd  to  the  nose,  and  bearded  to  the  eyes, 

Snatch'd  from  a  prison  to  preside  at  court, 
His  lately  bowstrung  brother  caused  his  rise ; 

He  was  as  good  a  sovereign  of  the  sort 
As  any  mention'd  in  the  histories 

Of  Cantemir,  or  Knolles,  where  few  shine 

Save  Solyman,  the  glory  of  their  line.  (') 


He  went  to  mosque  in  state,  and  said  his  prayers 
Wit]i  more  than  "  Oriental  scrupulosity ;  "(2) 

He  left  to  his  vizier  all  state  affairs. 
And  show'd  but  little  royal  curiosity : 

I  know  not  if  he  had  domestic  cares  — 
No  process  proved  connubial  animosity ; 

Four  wives  and  twice  five  hundred  maids,  unseen, 

Were  ruled  as  calmly  as  a  Christian  queen.  (3) 

(1)  It  may  not  be  unworthy  of  remark,  that  Bacon,  in  his  essay  on 
"  Empire,"  hints  that  Soiyman  was  the  last  of  his  line;  on  what  authority, 
I  know  not.  These  are  his  words : — "  The  destruction  of  Mustapha  was  so 
fatal  to  Solyman 's  line,  as  the  succession  of  the  Turks  from  Solyman,  ur.tii 
this  day,  is  suspected  to  be  untrue,  and  of  strange  blood  ;  for  that  Selymus 
the  second  was  thought  to  be  supposititious."  But  Bacon,  in  his  histo- 
rical authorities,  is  often  inaccurate.  I  could  give  half  a  dozen  instances 
from  his  Apophthegms  only.     [See  Appendix  to  this  Canto,  p.  120.  posi.2 

(2)  [Gibbon.] 

(3)  [MS.  —     "  Because  he  kept  them  wrapt  up  in  his  closet,  he 

Ruled  four  wives  and  twelve  hundred  whores,  unseen. 
More  easily  than  Christian  kings  one  queen."] 


CASTOV.  DON    JUAN.  115 

CXLIX. 

1  i  now  and  then  there  happen'd  a  slight  slip, 
Little  was  heard  of  criminal  or  crime ; 

The  story  scarcely  pass'd  a  single  lip — 
The  sack  and  sea  had  settled  all  in  time, 

From  which  the  secret  nobody  could  rip : 

Tlie  Public  knew  no  more  than  does  this  rhyme ; 

No  scandals  made  the  daily  press  a  curse  — 

"florals  were  better,  and  the  fish  no  worse. (') 


CL. 

He  saw  with  his  own  eyes  the  moon  was  round, 
Was  also  certain  that  the  earth  was  square. 

Because  he  had  journey'd  fifty  miles,  and  found 
No  sign  that  it  was  circular  any  where ; 

His  empire  also  was  without  a  bound : 
'Tis  true,  a  little  troubled  here  and  there. 

By  rebel  pachas,  and  encroaching  giaours. 

But  tln'ii  they  never  came  to  "the  Seven  Towers;  "(2) 

vi;  L  •'*"'•  —  '  There  ended  many  a  fair  Sultana's  trip  : 

The  Public  knew  no  more  than  does  this  rhyme 
No  printed  scandals  flew  —  the  fish,  of  course. 
Were  better  —  while  the  morals  were  no  worse,"]        ^ 

(J)  [The  itate  prison  of  Constantinople,  in  which  the  Porte  shuts  up  the 
ministcra  of  huttilc  powers  who  are  dilatory  in  taking  their  departure, 
under  pretence  of  protecting  them  from  the  insults  of  the  mob.  —  Hope. 

Wc  attempted  to  vUit  the  Seven  Towers,  but  were  stopped  at  the 
tntranec,  and  Informed  that  without  a  firman  it  was  inaccessible  to 
Mrangert.  It  wa«  luppoted  that  Count  Bulukoff,  the  Russian  minister, 
would  ho  the  la*t  of  the  Mou$$afirs,  or  imperial  hostages,  confined  in  this 
fortrt-u  ;  but  .inccthc  year  1784,  M.  Ruffin  and  many  of  the  French  have 
been  impriaoned  in  the  »ame  place ;  and  the  dungeons  were  gaping,  it 
Mona,  for  the  lacred  pcnons  of  the  gentlemen  composing  his  Britannic 
M^ertj'a  mUfioo,  preriout  to  the  rupture  between  Great  Britain  and  the 
Porte  in  180P.  —  HoaRount.3 

I  2 


116  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

CLI. 

Except  in  shape  of  envoys,  who  were  sent 

To  lodge  there  when  a  war  broke  out,  according 

To  the  true  law  of  nations,  which  ne'er  meant 
Those  scoundrels,  who  have  never  had  a  sword  in 

Their  dirty  diplomatic  hands,  to  vent 

Tlieir  spleen  in  making  strife,  and  safely  wording 

Their  lies,  yclep'd  despatches,  without  risk  or 

The  singeing  of  a  single  inky  whisker. 

CLII. 

He  had  fifty  daughters  and  four  dozen  sons. 
Of  whom  all  such  as  came  of  age  were  stow'd, 

The  former  in  a  palace,  where  like  nuns 

They  lived  till  some  Bashaw  was  sent  abroad, 

When  she,  whose  turn  it  was,  was  wed  at  once. 
Sometimes  at  six  years  old  (^)  —  though  this  seems 

'Tis  true ;  the  reason  is,  that  the  Bashaw         [odd, 

Must  make  a  present  to  his  sire  in  law. 

CLIII. 

His  sons  were  kept  in  prison,  till  they  grew 
Of  years  to  fill  a  bowstring  or  the  throne, 

One  or  the  other,  but  which  of  the  two 
Could  yet  be  known  unto  the  fates  alone  ; 

Meantime  the  education  they  went  through 

Was  princely,  as  the  proofs  have  always  shown : 

So  that  the  heir  apparent  still  was  found 

No  less  deserving  to  be  hang'd  than  crown'd. 

(1)  ["  The  princess  "  (Sulta  Asma,  daughter  of  Achmet  III.)  "  exclaimed 
against  the  barbarity  of  the  institution  which,  at  six  years  old,  had  put  her 
in  the  power  of  a  decrepid  old  man,  who,  by  treating  her  like  a  child,  had 
only  inspired  disgust"  —  De  Tott.] 


) 


cxvTor.  DON  JUAN.  117 

CLIV. 

His  Majesty  saluted  his  fourth  spouse 

Witli  all  the  ceremonies  of  his  rank,  [brows, 

Who  clear'd  her  sparkling  eyes  and  smooth'd  her 

As  suits  a  matron  who  has  play'd  a  prank ; 
These  must  seem  doubly  mindful  of  their  vows, 

To  save  the  credit  of  their  breaking  bank : 
To  no  men  are  such  cordial  greetings  given 
As  those  whose  wives  have  made  them  fit  for  heaven. 


CLV. 

His  Highness  cast  around  his  great  black  eyes. 
And  looking,  as  he  always  look'd,  perceived 

Juan  amongst  the  damsels  in  disguise. 

At  which  he  seem'd  no  whit  surprised  nor  grieved, 

But  just  remark'd  with  air  sedate  and  wise, 
While  still  a  fluttering  sigh  Gulbeyaz  heaved, 

"  I  see  you've  bought  another  girl ;  'tis  pity 

That  a  mere  Christian  should  be  half  so  pretty." 


CLVI. 

This  compliment,  which  drew  all  eyes  upon 

ITie  new-bought  virgin,  made  her  blush  and  shake. 

Her  comrades,  also,  thought  themselves  undone : 
Oh  I  Mahomet  I  that  his  Majesty  should  take 

Such  notice  of  a  giaour,  while  scarce  to  one 
Of  them  his  lips  imperial  ever  spake ! 

Tliere  was  a  general  whisper,  toss,  and  wriggle, 

But  etiquette  forbade  them  all  to  giggle. 
I  3 


118  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  V. 

CLVII. 

The  Turks  do  well  to  shut — at  least,  sometimes — 

The  women  up — because,  in  sad  reality. 
Their  chastity  in  these  unhappy  climes 

Is  not  a  thing  of  that  astringent  quality 
Which  in  the  North  prevents  precocious  crimes, 

'And  makes  our  snow  less  pure  than  our  morality  ; 
The  sun,  which  yearly  melts  the  polar  ice, 
vHas  quite  the  contrary  effect  on  vice. 

CLVIII. 

Thus  in  the  East  they  are  extremely  strict, 
And  Wedlock  and  a  Padlock  mean  the  same ; 

Excepting  only  when  the  former's  pick'd 
It  ne'er  can  be  replaced  in  proper  frame ; 

Spoilt,  as  a  pipe  of  claret  is  when  prick'd : 
But  then  their  own  Polygamy's  to  blame ; 

Why  don't  they  knead  two  virtuous  souls  for  life 

Into  that  moral  centaur,  man  and  wife?(i) 

CLIX. 

Thus  far  our  chronicle ;  and  now  we  pause. 
Though  not  for  want  of  matter;  but  'tis  time. 

According  to  the  ancient  epic  laws. 

To  slacken  sail,  and  anchor  with  our  rhyme. 

(1)  [This  stanza  — which  Lord  Byron  composed  in  bed,  Feb.  27.  1821, 
(see  aw/^,  Vol.  V.  p.  107.)  is  not  in  the  first  edition.  On  discovering  the 
omission,  he  thus  remonstrated  with  Mr.  Murray  :  —  "  Upon  what  princi- 
ple have  yoH  omitted  one  of  the  concluding  stanzas  sent  as  an  addition?  — 
^because  it  ended,  I  suppose,  with  — 

'.And  do  not  link  two  virtuous  souls  for  life 
Into  that  moral  centaur,  man  and  wife  ?  ' 
"  Now,  I  must  say,  once  for  all,  that  I  will  not  permit  any  human  being 
to  take  such  liberties  with  my  writings  because  I  am  absent    I  desire  the 


CAKTOV.  DON    JUAN.  119 

Let  this  fifth  canto  meet  with  due  applause, 

The  sixth  shall  have  a  touch  of  the  sublime ; 
Meanwhile,  as  Homer  sometimes  sleeps,  perhaps 
You'll  pardon  to  my  muse  a  few  short  naps.(^) 


omiasion  to  be  replaced.  I  have  read  over  the  poem  carefully,  and  I  tell 
you,  ii  is  poetry.  The  litUe  envious  knot  of  parson-poets  may  say  what 
they  please:  time  will  show  that  I  am  not,  in  this  instance,  mistaken."^ 

(1)  Blackwood  «ay«,  in  Na  LXV.,  for  June,1822,  "  These  three  Cantos  (III. 
IV.  V.)  are,  like  all  Byron's  poems,  and,  by  the  way,  like  every  thing  in 
this  world,  partly  good  and  partly  bad.  In  the  particular  descriptions  they 
tat  not  so  naughty  as  their  predecessors :  indeed,  his  lordship  has  been  so 
pretty  and  welUbehaved  on  the  present  occasion,  that  we  should  not  be 
nupciaed  to  hear  of  the  work  being  detected  among  the  thread  cases, 
flower-pots,  and  cheap  tracts  that  litter  the  drawing-room  tables  of  some 
of  the  best  regulated  families.  By  those,  however,  who  suspect  him  of 
"  a  strange  design 

"  Against  the  creed  and  morals  of  the  land. 
And  trace  it  in  this  poem  every  line," 

It  will  be  found  as  bad  as  ever.  He  shows  his  knowledge  of  the  world  too 
openly;  and  it  is  no  extenuation  of  this  freedom  that  he  does  it  play- 
fttUy.  Only  infants  can  be  shown  naked  in  company ;  but  his  lordship 
pulls  the  very  robe-de-chambre  from  both  men  and  women,  and  goes  on 
with  his  exposure  as  smirkingly  as  a  barrister  cross-questioning  a  chamber- 
maid io  a  case  of  erim.  con.  This,  as  nobody  can  approve,  we  must  confess 
is  Tery  bad.  Still,  it  is  harsh  to  ascribe  to  wicked  motives  what  may  be 
owing  to  the  temptations  of  circumstances,  or  the  headlong  impulse  of 
pMslon.  Even  the  worst  habits  should  be  charitably  considered,  for  they 
are  often  the  result  of  the  slow  but  irresistible  force  of  nature,  over  the 
artiflcial  manners  and  discipline  of  society  —  the  flowing  stream  that 
wastes  away  its  embankments.  Man  towards  his  fellow  man  should  be  at 
IfMtt  compassionate;  for  he  can  be  no  judge  of  the  instincts  and  the  im- 
pulses of  action,  be  can  only  see  effects. 

*•  Tremble,  thou  wretch. 

That  hast  within  thee  undivulged  crimes, 

Unwhipp'd  of  juitice :   Hide  thee,  thou  blootly  hand  ;  — 

Thou  perjured,  and  thou  simular  man  of  virtue 

Thou  art  incestuous :  Caitiff,  to  pieces  shake. 

That  under  covert  and  convenient  seeming 

Hast  practised  on  man's  life !  —  Close  penUup  guilts, 

Rl»e  your  concealing  continents,  and  cry 

These  drea«lful  summoniTs  trr.iro  "  —  f.far.Z 

J     ! 


120 


APPENDIX. 

LORD  BACON'S  APOPHTHEGMS.  (>) 

(See  anti,  p.  114.  note  1.) 


BACON'S  APOPHTHEGMS. 

91. 
Michael  Angelo,  the  famous 
painter,  painting  in  the  pope's  cha- 
pel the  portraiture  of  hell  and 
damned  souls,  made  one  of  the 
damned  souls  so  like  a  cardinal  that 
was  his  enemy,  as  every  body  at  first 
sight  knew  it ;  whereupon  the  car- 
dinal complained  to  Pope  Clement, 
humbly  praying  it  might  be  defaced. 
The  pope  said  to  him.  Why,  you 
know  very  well  I  have  power  to  de- 
liver a  soul  out  of  purgatory,  but 
not  out  of  hell. 

155. 
Alexander,  after  the  battle  of 
Granicum,  had  very  great  offers 
made  him  by  Darius.  Consulting 
with  his  captains  concerning  them, 
Parmenio  said.  Sure,  I  would  accept 
of  these  offers,  if  I  were  as  Alex- 
ander. Alexander  answered.  So 
would  T,  if  I  were  as  Parmenio. 


OBSERVATIONS. 

This  was  not  the  portrait  of  a  car- 
dinal, but  of  the  pope's  master  of 
the  ceremonies. 


It  was  after  the  battle  of  Issus 
and  during  the  siege  of  Tyre,  and 
not  immediately  after  the  passage  of 
the  Granicus,  that  this  is  said  to 
have  occurred. 


(1)  "  Ordered  Fletcher  (at  four  o'clock  this  afternoon)  to  copy  out  seven 
or  eight  apophthegms  of  Bacon,  in  which  I  have  detected  such  blunders  as 
a  schoolboy  might  detect,  rather  than  commit.  Such  are  the  sages !  What 
must  they  be,  when  such  as  I  can  stumble  on  their  mistakes  or  mis-state- 
ments? I  will  go  to  bed,  for  I  find  that  I  grow  cynical."  — £.  Diary,  Jan.  5. 
1821. 


APPENDIX   TO   CANTO    V. 


121 


158. 

A  Qtigonui,  when  it  was  told  him 

ttiat  the  enemy  had  such  volleys  of 

•Rowa,  that  they  did  hide  the  sun, 

•aid.  That  falls  out  well,  for  it  is  hot 

,  and  so  we  shall  fight  in  the 


162. 
There  was  a  philosopher  that  dis. 
putad  with  Adrian  the  Emperor, 
•ad  did  it  but  weakly.  One  of  his 
Mends  that  stood  by,  afterwards 
Mid  unto  him,  Methinks  you  were 
not  like  yourself  last  day,  in  argu. 
Bcnt  with  the  Emperor :  I  could 
have  anaweret^ better  myself.  Why, 
•aid  the  philoaopher,  would  you 
hava  Bie  eontend  with  him  that 
PMiwanili  thirty  legions  ? 

164. 
Thcte  was  one  that  found  a  great 
matt  of  money  digged  under  ground 
in  his  grandfather's  house,  and  being 
•oowwhat  doubtful  of  the  case,  sig- 
niflcd  it  to  the  emperor  that  he  had 
fbond  such  treasure.  The  emperor 
made  a  rescript  thus  :  Use  it  He 
writ  back  again,  that  the  sum  was 
greater  than  bis  state  or  condition 
could  use  The  emperor  writ  a  new 
,  thus :  Abuse  it 


178. 

One  of  the  aeraa  waa  wont  to  say, 

that  laws  were  like  cobwebs  :  where 

the  MoaU  lica  ware  caught,  and  the 


•  This  was  not  said  by  Antigonus, 
but  by  a  Spartan,  previously  to  the 
battle  of  Thermopylae. 


This  happened  under  Augustus 
Cxsar,  and  not  during  the  reign  of 
Adrian. 


This  happened  to  the  father  of 
Herodes  Atticus,  and  the  answer 
was  made  by  the  emperor  NervOy 
who  deserved  that  his  name  should 
have  been  stated  by  the  "  greatest— 
wisest  —  meanest  of  manlund."(l) 


This  was  said  by  Anacharsis  the 
Scythian,  and  not  by  a  Greek. 


tirator  of  Athens  said  to  De- 
mrxthcnca.  The  Athenians  will 
kilt  you  if  they  wax  mad.  Demo. 
Mbcoci  replied.  And  they  will  kiU 
fon,  if  they  be  in  good  senaa 


This  was  not  said  by  Demosthenes, 
but  to  Demosthenes  by  Phocion, 


(1)  C"  If  part*  anurc  thee,  think  how  Bacon  shined. 

The  wiaart,  brightest,  meanest  of  mankind."  —  Pope] 


122 


APPENDIX   TO    CANTO    V. 


221. 
There  was  a  philosopher   about 
Tiberius  that,  looking  into  the  na- 
ture of  Caius,  said  of  him.  That  he 
was  mire  mingled  with  blood. 

97. 
There  was  a  king  of  Hungary 
took  a  bishop  in  battle,  and  kept 
him  prisoner;  whereupon  the  pope 
writ  a  monitory  to  him,  for  that  he 
had  broken  the  privilege  of  holy 
church  and  taken  his  son  :  the  king 
sent  an  embassage  to  him,  and  sent 
withal  the  armour  wherein  the 
bishop  was  taken,  and  this  only  in 
writing  —  Vide  num  hccc  sit  vestis 
filiitui?  Know  now  whether  this 
be  thy  son's  coat? 

267. 
Demetrius,  king  of  Macedon,  had 
a  petition  offered  him  divers  times 
by  an  old  woman,  and  answered  he 
had  no  leisure ;  whereupon  the  wo- 
man  said  aloud,  Why  then  give  over 
to  be  king. 


This  was  not  said  of  Caius  (Cali- 
gula,  I  presume,  is  intended  by 
Caius),  but  of  Tiberius  himself. 


This  reply  was  not  made  by  a 
King  of  Hungary,  but  sent  by 
Richard  the  first,  Coeur  de  Lion,  of 
England  to  the  Pope,  with  the 
breastplate  of  the  bishop  of  Beau- 
vais. 


This  did  tw)^  happen  to  Demetrius, 
but  to  Philip  King  of  Macedon. 


VOLTAIRE. 

Having  stated  that  Bacon  was  frequently  incorrect  in  his  citations  from 
history,  I  have  thought  it  necessary  in  what  regards  so  great  a  name  (how- 
ever trifling),  to  support  the  assertion  by  such  facts  as  more  immediately 
occur  to  me.  They  are  but  trifles,  and  yet  for  such  trifles  a  schoolboy 
would  be  whipped  (if  still  in  the  fourth  form) ;  and  Voltaire  for  half  a 
dozen  similar  errors  has  been  treated  as  a  superficial  writer,  notwithstand- 
ing  the  testimony  of  the  learned  Warton  :  —  "  Voltaire,  a  writer  of  much 
deeper  research  than  is  imagined,  and  the  first  who  has  displayed  the  liter- 
ature and  customs  of  the  dark  ages  with  any  degree  of  penetration  and 
comprehension."  (1)  For  another  distinguished  testimony  to  Voltaire's 
merits  in  literary  research,  see  also  Lord  Holland's  excellent  Account  of 
the  Life  and  Writings  of  Lope  de  Vega,  vol.  i.  p.  215.  edition  of  1817.  (2) 


(1)  Dissertation  L 

(2)  [Till  Voltaire  appeared,  there  was  no  nation  more  ignorant  cf  its 
neighbours'  literature  than  the  French.  He  first  exposed,  and  then  cor- 
rected, this  neglect  in  his  countrymen.  There  is  no  writer  to  whom  the 
authors  of  other  nations,  especially  of  England,  are  so  indebted  for  the 
extension  of  their  fame  in  France,  and,  through  France,  in  Europe.  There 


f 


APPENDIX   TO    CANTO    V.  123 

VoHaire  has  even  been  termed  "  a  shallow  fellow,"  by  some  of  the  same 
who  called  Drydcn's  Ode  "  a  drunken  song  ;  "  — a  school  (as  it  is 
.  I  prerame,  from  their  education  being  still  incomplete)  the  whole 
of  wbow  filthy  trash  of  Epics,  Excursions,  &c.  &c.  &c.  is  not  worth  the 
i  in  Zaire,  "  fouspleurcz,"  (1)  or  a  single  speech  of  Tancred  :  —  a 
the  apostate  lives  of  whose  renegadoes,  with  their  tea-drinking 
BCDtnlity  of  morals,  and  their  convenient  treachery  in  politics  —  in  the 
Reocd  of  their  accumulated  pretences  to  virtue  can  produce  no  actions 
(were  all  their  good  deeds  drawn  up  in  array)  to  equal  or  approach  the 
ade  defence  of  the  family  of  Calas,  by  that  great  and  unequalled  genius  — 
the  universal  Voltaire. 

I  have  ventured  to  remark  on  these  little  inaccuracies  of  "  the  greatest 
geniiu  that  England  or  perhaps  any  other  country  ever  produced,"  (2) 
to  ihow  our  national  injustice  in  condemning  general!;/,  the 
genius  of  France  for  such  inadvertencies  as  these,  of  which  the 
highest  of  England  has  been  no  less  guilty.  Query,  was  Bacon  a  greater 
inteUccC  than  Newton  ? 

CAMPBELL.  (3) 
Being  in  the  humour  of  criticism,  I  shall  proceed,  after  having  ventured 
upon  the  slips  of  Bacon,  to  touch  upon  one  or  two  as  trifling  in  the  edition 

it  DO  critic  who  has  employed  more  time,  wit,  ingenuity,  and  diligence  in 
the  literary  intercourse  between  country  and  country,  and  in 
in  one  language  the  triumphs  of  another.  Yet,  by  a  strange 
flrtallty,  he  is  constantly  represented  as  the  enemy  of  all  literature  but  his 
own ;  and  Spaniards,  Englishmen,  and  Italians  vie  with  each  other  in  in- 
veighing against  his  occasional  exaggeration  of  faulty  passages  ;  the  authors 
of  which,  till  he  pointed  out  their  beauties,  were  hardly  known  beyond  the 
In  which  their  language  was  s{X)kcn.  Those  who  feel  such  indig. 
at  his  misrepresentations  and  oversights,  would  find  it  difficult  to 
produce  a  critic  in  any  modern  language,  who,  in  speaking  of  foreign  liter- 
ature, ia  better  informed  or  more  candid  than  Voltaire;  and  they  certainly 
D«rcr  would  be  able  to  discover  one,  who  to  those  qualities  unites  so  much 
aagadtj  and  liveliness.  His  enemies  would  fain  persuade  us  that  such 
exuberance  of  wit  implies  a  want  of  information ;  but  they  only  succeed 
in  showing  that  a  want  of  wit  by  no  means  implies  an  exuberance  of  in- 
fonnatioo.—  Loan  Holland.] 

(*)  "  11  est  trop  vral  que  I'honneur  me  I'ordonne, 

Que  Je  voua  adorai,  que  je  vous  abandonne. 
Que  Je  rcnooce  k  vous,  que  vous  le  desirez, 
Que  sous  une  autre  loi .  . .  Zaire,  vous  pleurez  ?  "— 

Zaire,  acte  iv.  sc.  iL 
(8)  Pope,  In  Spcooe^  Anecdotes,  p.  158.  Malone's  edition. 
(S)  ["  Read  CanpbeU^s  Poets.    Corrected  Tom's  slips  of  the  pen.    A  good 
work,  though —style  aflkcted— but  his  defence  of  Pope  is  glorious.     To  be 
Mre,  it  U  his  ovm  cause  too,  — but  no  matter,  it  is  very  good,  and  does 
hha  gnat  credit."— A  Diarjf,  Jan.  10.  1821] 


124«  APPENDIX    TO    CANTO    V. 

of  the  British  Poets,  by  the  justly  celebrated  Campbell  But  I  do  this  in 
good  will,  and  trust  it  will  be  so  taken.  If  any  thing  could  add  to  my 
opinion  of  the  talents  and  true  feeling  of  that  gentleman,  it  would  be  his 
classical,  honest,  and  triumphant  defence  of  Pope,  against  the  vulgar  cant 
of  the  day,  and  its  existing  Grub-Street. 
The  inadvertencies  to  which  I  allude  are,  — 

Firstly,  in  speaking  of  Anstcy,  whom  he  accuses  of  having  taken  "  his 
leading  characters  from  Smollett."  Anstey's  Bath  Guide  was  published 
in  176a  Smollett's  Humphry  Clinker  (the  only  work  of  Smollett's  from 
which  Tabitha,  &c.  &c.  could  have  been  taken)  was  written  during 
S??iollett's  last  residence  at  Leghorn  in  1770.  —  "  Argal,"  if  there  has  been 
any  borrowing,  Anstey  must  be  the  creditor,  and  not  the  debtor.  I  refer 
Mr.  Campbell  to  his  own  data  in  his  lives  of  Smollett  and  Anstey. 

Secondly,  Mr.  Campbell  says  in  the  life  of  Cowper  (note  to  page  358. 
vol.  vii.)  that  he  knows  not  to  whom  Cowper  alludes  in  these  lines :  — 

"  Nor  he  who,  for  the  bane  of  thousands  born. 
Built  God  a  church,  and  laugh 'd  his  word  to  scorn." 

The  Calvinist  meant  Voltaire,  and  the  church  of  Ferney,  with  its 
inscription  "  Deo  erexit  Voltaire." 

Thirdly,  in  the  life  of  Burns,  Mr.  Campbell  quotes  Shakspeare  thus  :  — 

"  To  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  rose. 
Or  add  fresh  perfume  to  the  violet" 

This  version  by  no  means  improves  the  original,  which  is  as  follows  :  — 

"  To  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  lily. 
To  throw  a  perfume  on  the  violet,"  &c,  —  King  John. 

A  great  poet  quoting  another  should  be  correct :  ho  should  also  be 
accurate,  when  he  accuses  a  Parnassian  brother  of  that  dangerous  charge 
"  borrowing:"  a  poet  had  better  borrow  any  thing  (excepting  money) 
than  the  thoughts  of  another  —  they  are  always  sure  to  be  reclaimed  ;  but 
it  is  very  hard,  having  been  the  lender,  to  be  denounced  as  the  debtor,  as 
is  the  case  of  Anstey  versus  Smollett. 

As  there  is  "  honour  amongst  thieves,"  let  there  be  some  amongst 
poets,  and  give  each  his  due,  —  none  can  afFord  to  give  it  more  than 
Mr.  Campbell  himself,  who,  with  a  high  reputation  for  originality,  and  a 
fame  which  cannot  be  shaken,  is  the  only  poet  of  the  times  (except  Rogers) 
who  can  be  reproached  (and  in  him  it  is  indeed  a  reproach)  with  having 
written  too  little. 


Ravenna,  Jan.  5.  1821. 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  THE  SIXTH,  (i) 


,1)  j^».  .ii.u.s  \  1.  VIL  and  VIII.  were  written  at  Pisa,  in  1892,  and  pub- 
lished by  Mr.  John  Hunt  in  July,  1823.  The  poet's  resumption  of  Don 
Jiuu)  is  explained  in  the  following  extract  from  his  correspondence  :  — 

Pii»,  July  8.  1822.  —  "  It  is  not  impossible  that  I  may  have  three  or  four 
I  of  Don  Juan  ready  by  autumn,  or  a  little  later,  as  I  obtained  a  per. 
im  my  dictatress  to  continue  it,  — provided  always  it  was  to  be 
more  guarded  and  decorous  and  sentimental  in  the  continuation  than  in 
the  oommencement  How  far  these  conditions  have  been  fulfilled  may  be 
•ecn.  perhap*,  by  and  by ;  but  the  embargo  was  only  taken  off  upon  these 
•UimUtioia."  —  £.] 


4 


12'i 


PREFACE 
TO  CANTOS  VI.  VII.  AND  VIII. 


The  details  of  the  siege  of  Ismail  in  two  of  the 
following  cantos  (i.  e.  the  seventh  and  eighth)  are 
taken  from  a  French  Work,  entitled  "  Histoire  de  la 
Nouvelle  Russie."  ( ' )  Some  of  the  incidents  attributed 
to  Don  Juan  really  occurred,  particularly  the  cir- 
cumstance of  his  saving  the  infant,  which  was  the  ac- 
tual case  of  the  late  Due  de  Richelieu,  (2)  then  ayoung 
volunteer  in  the  Russian  service,  and  afterward  the 
founder  and  benefactor  of  Odessa,  (•^)  where  his  name 

(1)  ['♦  Euai  sur  I'Histoire  ancienne  et  moderne  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie, 
par  le  Marquis  Gabriel  de  Castelnau."    3  torn.     Paris,  1820.] 

(2  [*'  Au  commencement  de  1803,  le  Due  de  Richelieu  flit  nommegouver- 
ncur  d'Odeua.  Quand  le  Due  vint  en  prendre  I'administration,  aucune 
rue  n'jr  ftait  form^e,  aucun  <'tablissement  n'y  ctait  achev^.  On  y 
comptait  a  peine  cinq  mille  hal)itans  :  onze  ans  plus  tard,  lorsqu'il  s'eK 
^loiKna, '^'  'lit  trente-cinq  milies.     Les  rues  etaient  tirees  au 

cordeau,  .    double  rang  d'arbres  ;  et  Ton  y  voyait  tous  les 

^tablisacfr.  .  ^  nt  le  culte,  I'instruction,  la  commodity,  et  memo 
Im  pUistra  dct  habiUns.  Un  seul  edifice  public  avait  ete  n^glig^  ;  le 
fouvemeur,  dam  cet  oubli  de  lui-mcme,  et  cette  simplicity  de  moeurs 
qui  divtingtiaient  ion  caracttre,  n'avait  ricn  voulu  changer  k  la  modeste 
babitaiion  qu'il  avait  trouvfe  en  arrivant.  I>e  commerce,  d^barass^ 
d'entraves,  avait  pris  I'eisor  le  plus  rapidc  Ji  Odessa,  tandis  que  la  seen- 
rM  et  la  liberty  de  conscience  y  avaicnt  promptement  attire  la  popu- 
lation."—5iojr.  C/'n/p.] 

(S)  [Odessa  U  a  very  interesting  place  ;  and  being  the  seat  of  govern, 
■wnt,  and  the  only  quarantine  allowe<l  except  CaflTa  and  Taganrog,  J«, 
though  of  very  recent  erection,  already  wealthy  and  flourishing.  Too 
much  praise  cannot  be  given  to  the  Duke  of  Richelieu,  to  wJiose  admi. 
nUtration,  not  to  any  natural  advantages,  this  town  owes  its  prosperity.  — 

iMior  IIe»bb.3 


128         PREFACE    TO    CANTOS  VI.  VII.  AND  VIII. 

and  memory  can  never  cease  to  be  regarded  with 
reverence. 

In  the  course  of  these  cantos,  a  stanza  or  two 
will  be  found  relative  to  the  late  Marquis  of  Lon- 
donderry, but  written  some  time  before  his  de- 
cease. Had  that  person's  oligarchy  died  with  him, 
they  would  have  been  suppressed;  as  it  is,  I  am 
aware  of  nothing  in  the  manner  of  his  death  ("*)  or  of 

(I)  [Robert,  second  Marquis  of  Londonderry,  died,  by  his  own  hand, 
at  his  seat  at  North  Cray,  in  Kent,  in  August,  1822.  During  the  session 
of  parhament  which  had  just  closed,  his  lordship  appears  to  have  sunk 
under  the  weight  of  his  labours,  and  insanity  was  the  consequence.  The 
following  tributes  to  his  eminent  qualities  we  take  from  the  leading  Tory 
and  "Whig  newspapers  of  the  day  :  — 

"  Of  high  honour,  fearless,  undaunted,  and  firm  in  his  resolves,  he  com- 
bined, in  a  remarkable  manner,  with  the  fortiter  in  re  the  suaviter  in  modo. 
To  his  political  adversaries  (and  he  had  no  other)  he  was  at  once  open, 
frank,  unassuming,  and  consequently  conciliatory.  He  was  happy  in  his 
union  with  a  most  amiable  consort ;  he  was  the  pride  of  a  venerated 
father ;  and  towards  a  beloved  brother  it  might  truly  be  said  he  was  notus 
animo  fraterno. 

"  With  regard  to  his  public  character,  all  admit  his  talents  to  have 
been  of  a  high  order,  and  his  industry  in  the  discharge  of  his  official 
duties  to  have  been  unremitting.  Party  animosity  may  question  the 
wisdom  of  measures  in  which  he  was  a  principal  actor,  to  save  its  own 
consistency,  but  it  does  not  dare  to  breathe  a  doubt  of  his  integrity  and 
honour.  His  reputation  as  a  minister  is,  however,  above  the  reach  of  both 
friends  and  enemies.  He  was  one  of  the  leaders  of  that  ministry  which 
preserved  the  country  from  being  subjugated  by  a  power  which  subjugated 
all  the  rest  of  Europe  —  which  fought  the  country  against  combined 
Europe,  and  triumphed  —  and  which  wrenched  the  sceptre  of  dominion 
from  the  desolating  principles  that  the  French  revolution  spread  through 
the  world,  and  restored  it  to  religion  and  honesty.  If  to  have  preserved 
the  faith  and  liberties  of  England  from  destruction  —  to  have  raised  her  to 
the  most  magnificent  point  of  greatness — to  have  liberated  a  quarter  of 
the  globe  from  a  despotism  which  bowed  down  both  body  and  soul  —  and  to 
have  placed  the  world  again  under  the  control  of  national  law  and  just 
principles,  be  transcendent  fame  — such  fame  belongs  to  this  ministry; 
and,  of  all  its  members,  to  none  more  than  to  the  Marquis  of  London- 
derry. During  great  part  of  the  year,  he  toiled  frequently  for  twelve  or 
fourteen  hours  per  day  at  the  most  exhausting  of  all  kinds  of  labour,  for 
a  salary  which,  unaided  by  private  fortune,  would  not  have  supported  him. 
He  laboured  for  thirty  years  in  the  service  of  the  country.    In  this  service 


PREFACE    TO    CANTOS    VI.  VII.  AND  VIII.       129 

his  life  to  prevent  the  free  expression  of  the  opinions 
of  all  whom  his  whole  existence  was  consumed  in 
endeavouring  to  enslave.  That  he  was  an  amiable 
man  in  private  life,  may  or  may  not  be  true :  but 
with  this  the  public  have  nothing  to  do ;  and  as  to 
lamenting  his  death,  it  will  be  time  enough  when 
Ireland  has  ceased  to  mourn  for  his  birth.  As  a 
minister,  I,  for  one  of  millions,  looked  upon  him  as 
the  most  despotic  in  intention,  and  the  weakest  in 
intellect,  that  ever  tyrannised  over  a  country.  It  is 
the  first  time  indeed  since  the  Normans  that  England 
has  been  insulted  by  a  minister  (at  least)  who  could 
not  speak  English,  and  that  parliament  permitted 
itself  to  be  dictated  to  in  the  language  of  Mrs. 
Malaprop.(^) 

Of  the  manner  of  his  death  little  need  be  said,  ex- 
cept that  if  a  poor  radical,  such  as  Waddington  or 
Watson,  had  cut  his  throat,  he  would  have  been 


be  ruined  a  robust  constitution,  broke  a  lofty  spirit,  destroyed  a  first-rate 
f  lodentanding,  and  met  an  untimely  death,  without  adding  a  shilling  to 
hia  patrimonial  fortuna  What  the  country  gained  from  him  may  never 
be  calculated  —  what  he  gained  from  the  country  was  lunacy,  and  a 
nurtyr'*  grave."  —  Kew  Timet. 

**  Lord  IxHidonderry  was  a  man  of  unassuming  manners,  of  simple 
taitc«,  and  'to  far  at  regarded  private  life)  of  kind  and  generous  disposi- 
tion. Towards  the  poor  he  was  beneficent :  in  his  family  mild,  considerate, 
and  forbearing.  He  was  firm  to  the  connections  and  associates  of  his  earlier 
day*,  not  only  thote  of  choice,  but  of  accident,  when  not  unworthy ; 
and  to  pcamote  tiMB,  and  to  advance  their  interests,  his  efibrts  were  sin- 
cere and  IndefatigiMe.  In  power  he  forgot  no  service  rendered  to  him 
while  he  was  In  a  private  station,  nor  broke  any  promise,  expressed  or  im. 
plied,  nor  abandoned  any  friend  who  claimed  and  merited  his  assistance."— 

i;  [See  Sheridan's  comedy  of  "  The  Rivals."] 
VOL.  XVI.  K 


180        PREFACE    TO    CANTOS  VI.  VII.  AND  VIII. 

buried  in  a  cross-road,  with  the  usual  appurtenances 
of  the  stake  and  mallet.  But  the  minister  was  an 
elegant  lunatic — a  sentimental  suicide — he  merely 
cut  the  "carotid  artery," (blessings  on  their  learning!) 
and  lo !  the  pageant,  and  the  Abbey !  and  "  the  syl- 
lables of  dolour  yelled  forth"  by  the  newspapers  — 
and  the  harangue  of  the  Coroner(i)  in  a  eulogy  over 
the  bleeding  body  of  the  deceased — (an  Anthony 
worthy  of  such  a  Caesar)  —  and  the  nauseous  and 
atrocious  cant  of  a  degraded  crew  of  conspirators 
against  all  that  is  sincere  and  honourable.  In  his 
death  he  was  necessarily  one  of  two  things  by  the 
law(^) — a  felon  or  a  madman — and  in  either  case 
no  great  subject  for  panegyric.  (^)    In  his  life  he  was 

(Vi  [Lord  Byron  seems  to  have  taken  his  notions  of  the  proceedings  of 
this  inquest  from  Cobbett's  Register.  What  the  Coroner  really  did  say 
was  as  follows  :  — "  As  a  public  man,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  weigh  his 
character  in  any  scales  that  I  can  hold.  In  private  life  I  believe  the  world 
will  admit  that  a  more  amiable  man  could  not  be  found.  Whether  the 
important  duties  of  the  great  office  which  he  held  pressed  upon  his  mind, 
and  conduced  to  the  melancholy  event  which  you  are  assembled  to  inves- 
tigate, is  a  circumstance  which,  in  all  probability,  never  can  be  discovered. 
If  it  should  unfortunately  appear  that  there  is  not  sufficient  evidence  to 
prove  what  is  generally  considered  the  indication  of  a  disordered  mind,  I 
trust  that  the  jury  will  pay  some  attention  to  my  humble  opinion,  which 
is,  that  no  man  can  be  in  his  proper  senses  at  the  moment  he  com- 
mits so  rash  an  act  as  self-murder.  My  opinion  is  in  consonance  with 
every  moral  sentiment,  and  the  information  which  the  wisest  of  men 
have  given  to  the  world.  The  Bible  declares  that  a  man  clings  to  nothing 
so  strongly  as  his  own  life.  I  therefore  view  it  as  an  axiom,  and  an 
abstract  principle,  that  a  man  must  necessarily  be  out  of  his  mind  at  the 
moment  of  destroying  himself."  —  E.] 

(2)  I  say  by  the  law  of  the  land  —  the  laws  of  humanity  judge  more 
gently ;  but  as  the  legitimates  have  always  the  law  in  their  mouths,  let 
them  here  make  the  most  of  it 

(3)  [Upon  this  passage  one  of  the  magazines  of  the  time  observes : 
"  Lord  Byron  does  not  appear  to  have  remembered  that  it  is  quite  pos- 
sible for  an  English  nobleman  to  be  both  (in  fact)  a  felon,  and  (what  in 
common  parlance  is  called)  a  madman."] 


PREFACE    TO    CANTOS  VI.  VII.  AND  VIII.        131 

— what  all  the  world  knows,  and  half  of  it  will  feel 
for  years  to  come,  unless  his  death  prove  a  "  moral 
lesson"  to  the  surviving  Sejani(')  of  Europe.  It 
may  at  least  serve  as  some  consolation  to  the  nations, 
that  their  oppressors  are  not  happy,  and  in  some  in- 
stances judge  so  justly  of  their  own  actions  as  to  an- 
ticipate the  sentence  of  mankind. — Let  us  hear  no 
more  of  this  man  ;  and  let  Ireland  remove  the  ashes 
of  her  Grattan  from  the  sanctuary  of  Westminster. 
Shall  the  patriot  of  humanity  repose  by  the  Werther 
of  politics  ! !  I 

With  regard  to  the  objections  which  have  been 
made  on  another  score  to  the  already  published  cantos 
of  this  poem,  I  shall  content  myself  with  two  quota- 
tions from  Voltaire: — "  La  pudeur  s'est  enfuite  des 
occurs,  et  s'est  refugiee  sur  les  levres."  ....  ''  Plus 
les  moeurs  sont  depraves,  plus  les  expressions  de- 
viennent  mesurees;  on  croit  regagner  en  langage 
ce  qu'on  a  perdu  en  vertu." 

This  is  the  real  fact,  as  applicable  to  the  degraded 
and  hypocritical  mass  which  leavens  the  present  En- 
glish generation,  and  is  the  only  answer  they  deserve. 
The  hackneyed  and  lavished  title  of  Blasphemer  — 
which,  with  Radical,  Liberal,  Jacobin,  Reformer,  &c. 
are  the  changes  which  the  hirelings  are  daily  ringing 

the  ears  of  those  who  will  listen — should  be  wel- 
come to  all  who  recollect  on  whom  it  was  originally 
bestowed.     Socrates  and  Jesus  Christ  were  put  to 


(I)  Ffxnn  thb  number  miut  be  excepted  Canning.  Canning  is  a  genius, 
almoct  a  univcnal  one,  an  orator,  a  wit,  a  poet,  a  statesman  ;  and  no  man 
of  talent  can  long  pursue  the  path  of  his  late  predecessor,  Lord  C.  If  ever 
oua  saved  his  country,  Canning  can^  but  tcill  he  ?    I,  for  one,  hope  so. 

K    2 


132        PREFACE    TO    CANTOS  VI.  VII.  AND  VIII. 

death  publicly  as  hlasphemersy  and  so  have  been 
and  may  be  many  who  dare  to  oppose  the  most 
notorious  abuses  of  the  name  of  God  and  the  mind 
of  man.  But  persecution  is  not  refutation,  nor  even 
triumph :  the  "  wretched  infidel,"  as  he  is  called,  is 
probably  happier  in  his  prison  than  the  proudest  of 
his  assailants.  With  his  opinions  I  have  nothing  to 
do  —  they  may  be  right  or  wrong  —  but  he  has 
suffered  for  them,  and  that  very  suffering  for 
conscience'  sake  will  make  more  proselytes  to  deism 
than  the  example  of  heterodox  (i)  Prelates  to 
Christianity,  suicide  statesmen  to  oppression,  or  over- 
pensioned  homicides  to  the  impious  alliance  which 
insults  the  world  with  the  name  of  "  Holy  ! "  I  have 
no  wish  to  trample  on  the  dishonoured  or  the  dead ; 
but  it  would  be  well  if  the  adherents  to  the  classes 
from  whence  those  persons  sprung  should  abate  a 
little  of  the  cant  which  is  the  crying  sin  of  this 
double-dealing  and  false-speaking  time  of  selfish 
spoilers,  and but  enough  for  the  present. 

Pisch  July,  1822. 


(1)  When  Lord  Sandwich  said  "  he  did  not  know  the  difference  between 
orthodoxy  and  heterodoxy,"  Warburton,  the  bishop,  replied,  "  Orthodoxy, 
mylord,  iswiy  rfoi'y,  and  heterodoxy  is  another  man^s  doxy."  A  prelate 
of  the  present  day  has  discovered,  it  seems,  a  third  kind  of  doxy,  which 
has  not  greatly  exalted  in  the  eyes  of  the  elect  that  which  Bentham  calls 
"  Church-of-Englandism.", 


133 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO    THE    SIXTH. 


I. 

"  There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men 
WTiich,  taken  at  the  flood/' — you  know  the  rest,(^) 

And  most  of  us  have  found  it  now  and  then ; 
At  least  we  think  so,  though  but  few  have  guess'd 

The  moment,  till  too  late  to  come  again. 
But  no  doubt  every  thing  is  for  the  best — 

Of  which  the  surest  sign  is  in  the  end : 

When  things  are  at  the  worst  they  sometimes  mend. 

II. 
There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  women 

Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads — Godknows  where : 
Those  navigators  must  be  able  seamen 

Whose  charts  lay  down  its  current  to  a  hair ; 
Not  all  the  reveries  of  Jacob  Behmen  (2) 

With  its  strange  whirls  and  eddies  can  compare : 
Men  with  their  heads  reflect  on  this  and  that — 
But  women  with  their  hearts  on  heaven  knows  what  I 

I    See  Sbakspcare,  JuHtu  Cmar,  act  ir.  bc.  iii. 

-J  [A  ?»ot«d  viaionarjr,  bom  near  Gtirlitz,  In  Upper  Lusatia,  in  1575,  and 
ftxindcr  of  the  tcct  called  Bchmenitcs.  He  had  numerous  followers  in 
Germany,  and  has  not  been  without  admirers  in  England  ;  one  of  these, 
the  famous  William  Law,  author  of  the  "  Serious  Call,"  edited  an  e<lltioa 
of  his  works.] 

K   3 


134?  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  VT, 

III. 
And  yet  a  headlong,  headstrong,  downright  she, 

Young,  beautiful,  and  daring — who  would  risk 
A  throne,  the  world,  the  universe,  to  be 

Beloved  in  her  own  way,  and  rather  whisk 
The  stars  from  out  the  sky,  than  not  be  free 

As  are  the  billows  when  the  breeze  is  brisk — 
Though  such  a  she's  a  devil  (if  that  there  be  one) 
Yet  she  would  make  full  many  a  Manichean. 


IV. 

Thrones,  worlds,  et  cetera,  are  so  oft  upset 
By  commonest  ambition,  tliat  when  passion 

O'erthrows  the  same,  we  readily  forget. 
Or  at  the  least  forgive,  the  loving  rash  one. 

If  Anthony  be  well  remember 'd  yet, 

'Tis  not  his  conquests  keep  his  name  in  fashion, 

But  Actium,  lost  for  Cleopatra's  eyes, 

Outbalances  all  Caesar's  victories. 


V. 

He  died  at  fifty  for  a  queen  of  forty ; 

I  wish  their  years  had  been  fifteen  and  twenty, 
For  then  wealth,  kingdoms,  worlds  are  but  a  sport — I 

Remember  when,  though  I  had  no  great  plenty 
Of  worlds  to  lose,  yet  still,  to  pay  my  court,  I 

Gave  what  I  had — a  heart :  as  the  world  went,  I 
Gave  what  was  worth  a  world ;  for  worlds  could  never 
Restore  me  those  pure  feelings,  gone  for  ever. 


CANTO  VI.  DON   JUAN-.  135 

VI. 

'Twas  the  boy's  "mite," and,  like  the  "widow's,"  may 
Perhaps  be  weigh'd  hereafter,  if  not  now  ; 

But  whether  such  things  do  or  do  not  weigh. 
All  who  have  loved,  or  love,  will  still  allow 

Life  has  nought  like  it.     God  is  love,  they  say. 
And  Love's  a  God,  or  was  before  the  brow 

Of  earth  was  wrinkled  by  the  sins  and  tears 

Of —  but  Chronology  best  knows  the  years. 

VII. 

We  left  our  hero  and  third  heroine  in 

A  kind  of  state  more  awkward  than  uncommon. 

For  gentlemen  must  sometimes  risk  their  skin 
For  that  sad  tempter,  a  forbidden  woman : 

Sultans  too  much  abhor  this  sort  of  sin. 

And  don't  agree  at  all  with  the  wise  Roman, 

Heroic,  stoic  Cato,  the  sententious. 

Who  lent  his  lady  to  his  friend  Hortensius.  Q) 

VIII. 

I  know  Gulbeyaz  was  extremely  wrong ; 

I  own  it,  I  deplore  it,  I  condemn  it ; 
But  I  detest  all  fiction  even  in  song, 

And  so  must  tell  the  truth,  howe'er  you  blame  it. 
Her  reason  being  weak,  her  passions  strong. 

She  thought  that  her  lord's  heart  (even  could  she 
claim  it) 
Was  scarce  enough  ;  for  he  had  fifty-nine 
Years,  and  a  fifteen-hundredth  concubine. 

(I)  C«to  gSTC  up  htowife  Martia  to  his  friend  Horteinius ;  but,  on  the 

dMth  of  the  Utter,  took  her  back  again.    This  conduct  was  ridiculed  by 

K    4 


1 36  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  TJ. 

IX. 

I  am  not,  like  Cassio,  "  an  arithmetician," 
But  by  "  the  bookish  theoric"(^)  it  appears. 

If 'tis  summ'd  up  with  feminine  precision. 

That,  adding  to  the  account  his  Highness'  years. 

The  fair  Sultana  err'd  from  inanition  ; 
For,  were  the  Sultan  just  to  all  his  dears. 

She  could  but  claim  the  fifteen-hundredth  part 

Of  what  should  be  monopoly — the  heart. 

X. 

It  is  observed  that  ladies  are  litigious 

Upon  all  legal  objects  of  possession. 
And  not  the  least  so  when  they  are  religious, 

Which   doubles  what  they  think   of  the   trans- 
gression : 
With  suits  and  prosecutions  they  besiege  us. 

As  the  tribunals  show  through  many  a  session, 
When  they  suspect  that  any  one  goes  shares 
In  that  to  which  the  law  makes  them  sole  heirs. 

XI. 

Now  if  this  holds  good  in  a  Christian  land, 
The  heathen  also,  though  with  lesser  latitude, 

Are  apt  to  carry  things  with  a  high  hand, 

And  take,  what  kings  call  "  an  imposing  attitude ;" 

the  Romans,  who  observed,  that  Martia  entered  the  house  of  Hortensius 
very  poor,  but  returned  to  the  bed  of  Cato  loaded  with  treasures.  —  Plu- 
tarch. 

(1)  £"  Forsooth,  a  great  arithmetician. 

One  Michael  Cassio,  a  Florentine, 

That  never  set  a  squadron  in  the  field. 

Nor  the  division  of  a  battle  knows 

More  than  a  spinster ;  unless  the  bookish  theoric,"  &c 

Olhello.2 


WTO  VI.  DON   JUAN.  137 

And  tor  their  rights  connubial  make  a  stand,   [tude  : 
Wlien  their  Hege  husbands  treat  them  with  ingrati- 
And  as  four  wives  must  have  quadruple  claims, 
The  Tigris  hath  its  jealousies  like  Thames. 

XII. 

Gulbeyaz  was  the  fourth,  and  (as  I  said) 

The  favourite;  but  what's  favour  amongst  four? 

Polygamy  may  well  be  held  in  dread. 
Not  only  as  a  sin,  but  as  a  bore  : 

Most  wise  men  with  otie  moderate  woman  wed, 
Will  scarcely  find  philosophy  for  more ; 

And  all  (except  Mahometans)  forbear 

fo  make  the  nuptial  couch  a  '•  Bed  of  Ware."(^) 

XIII. 

His  Highness,  the  sublimest  of  mankind, — 

So  styled  according  to  the  usual  forms 
Of  every  monarch,  till  they  are  consign'd 

To  those  sad  hungry  jacobins  the  worms,  (2) 
Who  on  the  very  loftiest  kings  have  dined, — 

His  Highness  gazed  upon  Gulbeyaz'  charms, 
l.xpecting  all  the  welcome  of  a  lover 

V  "  Highland  welcome "P)  all  the  wide  world  over). 

(1)  [*•  At  Ware,  the  inn  known  by  the  sign  of  the  Saracen's  Head  still 
contain*  the  Auaoui  Arrf,  measuring  twelve  feet  square,  to  which  an  allu- 
•ion  u  made  by  Shakspesre  in  '  Twelfth  Night'."—  Clutterbick'*  Hert- 
ford, vol  JiL  p.  285.] 

(2)  "  Stmt  worm  W  your  only  emperor  for  diet :  we  fat  all  creatures 
dw,  to  fat  u« ;  and  we  fat  ouraclret  for  maggoU.  Your  fat  king,  and  your 
leu  beggar,  ii  but  variable  service ;  two  dishes  but  to  one  table :  that's 
the  MmL"—  HamUL 

(S)  .See  Warerley. 


138  DON   JUAN.  CANT 

XIV. 

Now  here  we  should  distinguish ;  for  howe'er 
Kisses,  sweet  words,  embraces,  and  all  that, 

May  look  like  what  is — neither  here  nor  there, 
They  are  put  on  as  easily  as  a  hat, 

Or  rather  bonnet,  which  the  fair  sex  wear, 
Trimm'd  either  heads  or  hearts  to  decorate. 

Which  form  an  ornament,  but  no  more  part 

Of  heads,  than  their  caresses  of  the  heart. 


XV. 

A  slight  blush,  a  soft  tremor,  a  calm  kinS 
Of  gentle  feminine  delight,  and  shown 

More  in  the  eyelids  than  the  eyes,  resign'd 
Rather  to  hide  what  pleases  most  unknown, 

Are  the  best  tokens  (to  a  modest  mind) 

Of  love,  when  seated  on  his  loveliest  throne, 

A  sincere  woman's  breast,  —  for  over-warm 

Or  over-cold  annihilates  the  charm. 


XVI. 

For  over-warmth,  if  false,  is  worse  than  truth ; 

If  true,  'tis  no  great  lease  of  its  own  fire ; 
For  no  one,  save  in  very  early  youth. 

Would  like  (I  think)  to  trust  all  to  desire, 
Which  is  but  a  precarious  bond,  in  sooth. 

And  apt  to  be  transferr'd  to  the  first  buyer 
At  a  sad  discount :  while  your  over  chilly 
Women,  on  t'other  hand,  seem  somewhat  silly. 


CANTO  VI.  DON    JUAN.  139 

XVII. 

That  is,  we  cannot  pardon  their  bad  taste, 
For  so  it  seems  to  lovers  swift  or  slow, 

WTio  fain  would  have  a  mutual  flame  confess'd, 
And  see  a  sentimental  passion  glow, 

Even  were  St.  Francis'  paramour  their  guest. 
In  his  monastic  concubine  of  snow; — Q) 

In  short,  the  maxim  for  the  amorous  tribe  is 

HoVatian,  "  Medio  tu  tutissimus  ibis." 


XVIII. 

The  "  tu'"s  too  much, — but  let  it  stand, — the  verse 
Requires  it,  that's  to  say,  the  English  rhyme, 

And  not  the  pink  of  old  hexameters ; 

But,  after  all,  there's  neither  tune  nor  time 

In  the  last  line,  which  cannot  well  be  worse. 
And  was  thrust  in  to  close  the  octave's  chime : 

I  own  no  prosody  can  ever  rate  it 

As  a  rule,  but  truth  may,  if  you  translate  it. 


XIX. 

If  fair  Gulbeyaz  overdid  her  part, 

I  know  not — it  succeeded,  and  success 

Is  much  in  most  things,  not  less  in  the  heart 
Than  other  articles  of  female  dress. 


(1)  "  The  blcMed  Franria,  being  strongly  jolicited  one  day  by  the  emo- 
tion* of  the  fl«h,  pulled  off  his  clothes  and  scourged  himself  soundly : 
being  after  this  inflamed  with  a  wonderful  fervour  of  mind,  he  plunged 
his  naked  body  into  a  great  heap  of  snow.  The  devil,  being  overcome, 
retired  immediately,  and  the  holy  man  returned  victorious  into  his  cell' 
— 8cc  Btm.Ba'«  Li9ft  of  the  SainU. 


14?0  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  VI. 

Self-love  in  man,  too,  beats  all  female  art ; 
They  lie,  we  lie,  all  lie,  but  love  no  less : 
And  no  one  virtue  yet,  except  starvation, 
Could  stop  that  worst  of  vices — propagation. 

XX. 

We  leave  this  royal  couple  to  repose : 

A  bed  is  not  a  throne,  and  they  may  sleep, 

Whate'er  their  dreams  be,  if  of  joys  or  woes : 
Yet  disappointed  joys  are  woes  as  deep 

As  any  man's  clay  mixture  undergoes. 

Our  least  of  sorrows  are  such  as  we  weep ; 

'Tis  the  vile  daily  drop  on  drop  which  wears 

The  soul  out  (like  the  stone)  with  petty  cares. 

XXI. 

A  scolding  wife,  a  sullen  son,  a  bill 

To  pay,  unpaid,  protested,  or  discounted 

At  a  per-centage ;  a  child  cross,  dog  ill, 

A  favourite  horse  fallen  lame  just  as  he 's  mounted, 

A  bad  old  woman  making  a  worse  will, 

Which  leaves  you  minus  of  the  cash  you  counted 

As  certain;  —  these  are  paltry  things,  and  yet 

I've  rarely  seen  the  man  they  did  not  fret. 

XXII. 

I'm  a  philosopher;  confound  them  all! 

Bills,  beasts,  and  men,  and — no !  not  womankind ! 
With  one  good  hearty  curse  I  vent  my  gall, 

And  then  my  stoicism  leaves  nought  behind 


VTO  Ti.  DON    JUAN.  141 

Which  it  can  either  pain  or  evil  call, 

And  I  can  give  my  whole  soul  up  to  mind ; 
Though  what  is  soul  or  mind,  their  birth  or  growth, 
Is  more  than  I  know — the  deuce  take  them  both ! 

,  XXIII. 

So  now  all  things  are  d — n'd  one  feels  at  ease, 

As  after  reading  Athanasius'  curse, 
Which  doth  your  true  believer  so  much  please : 

I  doubt  if  any  now  could  make  it  worse 
O'er  his  worst  enemy  when  at  his  knees, 

'Tis  so  sententious,  positive,  and  terse. 
And  decorates  the  book  of  Common  Prayer 
As  doth  a  rainbow  the  just  clearing  air. 

XXIV. 

Gulbeyaz  and  her  lord  were  sleeping,  or 

At  least  one  of  them  !  —  Oh,  the  heavy  night, 

When  wicked  wives,  who  love  some  bachelor. 
Lie  down  in  dudgeon  to  sigh  for  the  light 

Of  the  grey  morning,  and  look  vainly  for 

Its  twinkle  through  the  lattice  dusky  quite — 

To  toss,  to  tumble,  doze,  revive,  and  quake 

Lest  their  too  lawful  bed-fellow  should  wake  ! 

XXV. 

These  are  beneath  the  canopy  of  heaven. 

Also  beneath  the  canopy  of  beds 
Four-posted  and  silk-curtain'd,  which  are  given 

For  rich  men  and  their  brides  to  lay  their  heads 


142  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  VI. 


Upon,  in  sheets  white  as  what  bards  call  "  driven 

Snow."    Well!  'tis  all  hap-hazard  when  one  weds. 
Gulbeyaz  was  an  empress,  but  had  been 
Perhaps  as  wretched  if  a  peasant! s  quean.Q) 


XXVI. 

Don  Juan  in  his  feminine  disguise, 

With  all  the  damsels  in  their  long  array. 

Had  bow'd  themselves  before  th'  imperial  eyes, 
And  at  the  usual  signal  ta'en  their  way 

Back  to  their  chambers,  those  long  galleries 
In  the  seraglio,  where  the  ladies  lay 

Their  delicate  hmbs ;  a  thousand  bosoms  there 

Beating  for  love,  as  the  caged  bird's  for  air. 


XXVII. 

I  love  the  sex,  and  sometimes  would  reverse 
The  tyrant's  (2)  wish,  "  that  mankind  only  had 

One  neck,  which  he  with  one  fell  stroke  might  pierce:' 
My  wish  is  quite  as  wide,  but  not  so  bad, 

And  much  more  tender  on  the  whole  than  fierce ; 
It  being  (not  now,  but  only  while  a  lad) 

That  womankind  had  but  one  rosy  mouth. 

To  kiss  them  all  at  once  from  North  to  South. 


■  (1)  [The  bards  of  Queen  Caroline,  in  the  Times  newspaper,  were  con- 
tinually,  during  the  period  of  her  trial,  ringing  the  changes  on  the 
"  driven  snow  "  of  her  purity.  —  E.] 

(2)  Caligula  —  see  Suetonius.  "  Being  'in  a  rage  at  the  people,  for  fa- 
vouring a  party  in  the  Circensian  games  in  opposition  to  him,  he  cried 
out,  •  I  wish  the  Roman  people  had  but  one  neck.'  " 


CANTO  VI.  DON   JUAN.  143 

XXVIII. 

Oh,  enviable  Briareus !  with  thy  hands 

And  heads,  if  thou  hadst  all  things  multiplied 

In  such  proportion  !  —  But  my  Muse  withstands 
The  giant  thought  of  being  a  Titan's  bride, 

Or  travelling  in  Fatagonian  lands ; 
So  let  us  back  to  Lilliput,  and  guide 

Our  hero  through  the  labyrinth  of  love 

In  which  we  left  him  several  lines  above. 

XXIX. 

He  went  forth  with  the  lovely  Odalisques,  (^) 
At  the  given  signal  join'd  to  their  array ; 

And  though  he  certainly  ran  many  risks, 
Yet  he  could  not  at  times  keep,  by  the  way, 

(Although  the  consequences  of  such  frisks 
Are  worse  than  the  worst  damages  men  pay 

In  moral  England,  where  the  thing 's  a  tax,) 

From  ogling  all  their  charms  from  breasts  to  backs. 

XXX. 

Still  he  forgot  not  his  disguise  :  —  along 

The  galleries  from  room  to  room  they  walk'd, 

A  virgin-like  and  edifying  throng. 
By  eunuchs flank'd;  while  at  their  head  there  stalk'd 

A  dame  who  kept  up  discipline  among 

The  female  ranks,  so  that  none  stirr'd  or  talk'd 

Without  her  sanction  on  their  she-parades : 

Her  title  was  «  the  Mother  of  the  Maids." 

0)  The  ladies  of  the  teraglia 


144?  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  Vlir 

XXXI. 

Wlietlier  she  was  a  "  mother, "  I  know  not,    [mother; 

Or  whether  they  were  "  maids"  who  call'd  her 
But  this  is  her  seraglio  title,  got 

I  know  not  how,  but  good  as  any  other ; 
So  Cantemir(^)  can  tell  you,  or  De  Tott:(2) 

Her  oiRce  was,  to  keep  aloof  or  smother 
All  bad  propensities  in  fifteen  hundred 
Young  women,  and  correct  them  when  they  blunder' d. 


I 


XXXII. 

A  goodly  sinecure,  no  doubt !  but  made 
More  easy  by  the  absence  of  all  men — 

Except  his  majesty,  —  who,  with  her  aid. 
And  guards,  and  bolts,  and  walls,  and  now  and  then 

A  slight  example,  just  to  cast  a  shade 

Along  the  rest,  contrived  to  keep  this  den 

Of  beauties  cool  as  an  Italian  convent, 

Where  all  the  passions  have,  alas !  but  one  vent. 

XXXIII. 

And  what  is  that?     Devotion,  doubtless  —  how 
Could  you  ask  such  a  question? — but  we  will 

Continue.     As  I  said,  this  goodly  row 
Of  ladies  of  all  countries  at  the  will 

Of  one  good  man,  with  stately  march  and  slow, 
Like  water-lilies  floating  down  a  rill — 

Or  rather  lake — for  rills  do  not  run  slowly, — 

Paced  on  most  maiden-like  and  melancholy. 

(1)  [Demetrius  Cantemir,  a  prince  of  Moldavia ;  whose  "  History  of  the 
Growth  and  Decay  of  the  Ottoman  Empire"  was  translated  into  English 
by  Tindal.    He  died  in  1723.] 

(?)  [^"  Memoirs  of  the  State  of  the  Turkish  Empire,  1785."] 


STO  VI.  DON   JUAN.  145 

XXXIV. 

But  when  they  reach'd  their  own  apartments,  there, 
Like  birds,  or  boys,  or  bedlamites  broke  loose. 

Waves  at  spring-tide,  or  women  any  where 

When  freed  from  bonds  (which  are  of  no  great  use 

After  all),  or  like  Irish  at  a  fair. 

Their  guards  being  gone,  and  as  it  Avere  a  truce 

Established  between  them  and  bondage,  they 

L       n  to  sing,  dance,  chatter,  smile,  and  play. 

XXXV. 

Their  talk,  of  course,  ran  most  on  the  new  comer ; 

Her  shape,  her  hair,  her  air,  her  every  thing : 
Some  thought  her  dress  did  not  so  much  become  her. 

Or  wonder'd  at  her  ears  without  a  ring ; 
Some  said  her  years  were  getting  nigh  their  summer. 

Others  contended  they  were  but  in  spring ; 
Some  thought  her  rather  masculine  in  height. 
While  others  wish'd  that  she  had  been  so  quite. 

XXXVI. 

But  no  one  doubted  on  the  whole,  that  she 
Was  what  her  dress  bespoke,  a  damsel  fair. 

And  fresh,  and  "  beautiful  exceedingly," (i)    [pare: 
Who  with  the  brightest  Georgians (2)  might  com- 


(1,  ["I  Rueu,  't  wa«  frightful  there  to  see 

A  Udy  so  richly  clad  a«  she- 
Beautiful  exceedingly."  —  Coleridge'*  ChrtstabelJ 

(!)  ••  It  U  In  the  adjacent  climates  of  Georgia,  Mingrelia,  and  Circassia, 
that  nature  has  placed,  at  least  to  our  eyes,  the  model  of  beauty,  in  the 
•hapc  of  the  iimlM,  the  colour  of  the  skin,  the  symmetry  of  the  features, 
•nd  the  esprcMioo  of  the  countenance :  the  men  are  formc<l  for  action, 
Hie  women  fcr  love**—  Gibbox. 

VOL.  XVI.  L 


l^e  DON    JUAN.  CAX 

They  wonder  d  how  Gulbeyaz,  too,  could  be 
So  silly  as  to  buy  slaves  who  might  share 
(If  that  his  Highness  wearied  of  his  bride) 
Her  throne  and  power,  and  every  thing  beside. 


XXXVII. 

But  what  was  strangest  in  this  virgin  crew, 
Although  her  beauty  was  enough  to  vex, 

After  the  first  investigating  view, 

They  all  found  out  as  few,  or  fewer,  specks 

In  the  fair  form  of  their  companion  new, 
Than  is  the  custom  of  the  gentle  sex. 

When  they  survey,  with  Christian  eyes  or  Heathen, 

In  a  new  face  "  the  ugliest  creature  breathing." 


XXXVIII. 

And  yet  they  had  their  little  jealousies. 
Like  all  the  rest ;  but  upon  this  occasion, 

Whether  there  are  such  things  as  sympathies 
Without  our  knowledge  or  our  approbation, 

Although  they  could  not  see  through  his  disguise, 
All  felt  a  soft  kind  of  concatenation, 

Like  magnetism,  or  devilism,  or  what 

You  please — we  will  not  quarrel  about  that: 


XXXIX, 

But  certain  'tis  they  all  felt  for  their  new 
Companion  something  newer  still,  as  'twere 

A  sentimental  friendship  through  and  through, 
Extremely  pure,  which  made  them  all  concur 


CANTO  VI.  DON   JUAN.  H7 

In  wishing  her  their  sister,  save  a  few 

Who  wish'd  they  had  a  brother  just  like  her, 
\\'hora,  if  they  were  at  home  in  sweet  Circassia, 
They  would  prefer  to  Padisha(^)  or  Pacha. 

XL. 

i  )f  those  who  had  most  genius  for  this  sort 
Of  sentimental  friendship,  there  were  three, 

Lolah,  Katinka,(-)  and  Dudu ;  in  short, 
(To  save  description)  fair  as  fair  can  be 

Were  they,  according  to  the  best  report, 
Though  differing  in  stature  and  degree, 

And  clime  and  time,  and  country  and  complexion ; 

They  all  alike  admired  their  new  connection. 

XLI. 

Lolah  was  dusk  as  India  and  as  warm ; 

Katinka  was  a  Georgian,  (^)  white  and  red. 
With  great  blue  eyes,  a  lovely  hand  and  arm. 

And  feet  so  small  they  scarce  seem'd  made  to  tread, 
But  rather  skim  the  earth ;  while  Dudu's  form 

Look'd  more  adapted  to  be  put  to  bed. 
Being  somewhat  large,  and  languishing,  and  lazy, 
Yet  of  a  beauty  that  would  drive  you  crazy. 


(1)  PsdUha  U  the  Turkuh  title  of  the  Grand  Signior. 

CI)  CKatfaka  wm  the  name  of  the  youngest  of  the  three  girls,  at  whose 
hoow  Lord  Bjron  resided  while  at  Athens,  in  1810.  See  anth.  Vol.  I.  p.  320.] 

(3)  [The  "  good  pointi "  of  a  Georgian  girl  are  a  rosy  or  carnation  tint 
on  her  cheek,  which  they  call  numuck,  "  the  salt  of  beauty  ;  "  dark  hair^ 
large  bIjKk  anUiof  eye*  and  arched  eyc-brows,  a  small  nose  and  mouth, 
white  teeth,  knf  R«d(,ddkate  limb«  and  small  joinU.  They  arc  extremely 
bCMitiftil,  fUn  of  jTriBUrttop,  grace,  and  elegance.  —  Mobier.] 

L    2 


148  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  VI. 

XLII.  ^ 

A  kind  of  sleepy  Venus  seem'd  Dudu,  9B 

Yet  very  fit  to  "  murder  sleep"  in  those 

Who  gazed  upon  her  cheek's  transcendent  hue, 
Her  Attic  forehead,  and  her  Phidian  nose : 

Few  angles  were  there  in  her  form,  'tis  true. 

Thinner  she  might  have  been,  and  yet  scarce  lose  ; 

Yet,  after  all,  'twould  puzzle  to  say  where 

It  would  not  spoil  some  separate  charm  to  pare. 


XLIII. 

She  was  not  violently  lively,  but 

Stole  on  your  spirit  like  a  May- day  breaking ; 
Her  eyes  were  not  too  sparkling,  yet,  half-shut. 

They  put  beholders  in  a  tender  taking ; 
She  look'd  (this  simile's  quite  new)  just  cut 

From  marble,  like  Pygmalion's  statue  waking. 
The  mortal  and  the  marble  still  at  strife, 
And  timidly  expanding  into  life. 


XLIV. 

Lolah  demanded  the  new  damsel's  name — 
"  Juanna." — Well,  a  pretty  name  enough. 

Katinka  ask'd  her  also  whence  she  came  — 

"  From  Spain." — "  But  where  is  Spain?  " — "  Don't 
ask  such  stuff. 

Nor  show  your  Georgian  ignorance — for  shame !" 
Said  Lolah,  with  an  accent  rather  rough, 

To  poor  Katinka :  "  Spain 's  an  island  near 

Morocco,  betwixt  Egypt  and  Tangier." 


CANTO  VI.  DON   JUAN.  149 

XLV. 

Dudu  said  nothing,  but  sat  down  beside 
Juanna,  playing  with  her  veil  or  hair ; 

And  looking  at  her  steadfastly,  she  sigh'd, 
As  if  she  pitied  her  for  being  there, 

A  pretty  stranger  without  friend  or  guide, 
And  all  abash'd,  too,  at  the  general  stare 

Which  welcomes  hapless  strangers  in  all  places. 

With  kind  remarks  upon  their  mien  and  faces. 


XLVI. 

But  here  the  Mother  of  the  Maids  drew  near. 
With,  "  Ladies,  it  is  time  to  go  to  rest. 

I'm  puzzled  what  to  do  with  you,  my  dear," 
She  added  to  Juanna,  their  new  guest : 

"  Your  coming  has  been  unexpected  here, 
And  every  couch  is  occupied ;  you  had  best 

Partake  of  mine;  but  by  to-morrow  early 

We  will  have  all  things  settled  for  you  fairly  " 


XLVII. 

Here  Lolah  interposed — "  Mamma,  you  know 
You  don't  sleep  soundly,  and  I  cannot  bear 

That  any  body  should  disturb  you  so ; 
I'll  take  Juanna;  we're  a  slenderer  pair 

Than  you  would  make  the  half  of; — don't  say  no ; 
And  I  of  your  young  charge  will  take  due  care." 

Hut  here  Katinka  interfered,  and  said, 

"  She  also  had  compassion  and  a  bed." 
L  3 


150  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  VI. 

XLVIir. 

"  Besides,  I  hate  to  sleep  alone,"  quoth  she. 

The  matron  frown'd :  "  Why  so?"—"  For  fear  of 


Replied  Katinka ;  "  I  am  sure  I  see 

A  phantom  upon  each  of  the  four  posts ; 

And  then  I  have  the  worst  dreams  that  can  be, 
Of  Guebres,  Giaours,  and  Ginns,  and  Gouls  in 
hosts." 

The  dame  replied,  "  Between  your  dreams  and  you, 

I  fear  Juanna's  dreams  would  be  but  few. 

XLIX. 

"  You,  Lolah,  must  continue  still  to  lie 

Alone,  for  reasons  which  don't  matter ;  you 

The  same,  Katinka,  until  by  and  by ; 
And  I  shall  place  Juanna  with  Dudu, 

Who's  quiet,  inoffensive,  silent,  shy, 

And  will  not  toss  and  chatter  the  night  through. 

What  say  you,  child?" — Dudu  said  nothing,  as 

Her  talents  were  of  the  more  silent  class ; 

L. 

But  she  rose  up,  and  kiss'd  the  matron's  brow 
Between  the  eyes,  and  Lolah  on  both  cheeks, 

Katinka  too ;  and  with  a  gentle  bow 

(Curt'sies  are  neither  used  by  Turks  nor  Greeks) 

She  took  Juanna  by  the  hand  to  show 

Their  place  of  rest,  and  left  to  both  their  piques. 

The  others  pouting  at  the  matron's  preference 

Of  Dudu,  though  they  held  their  tongues  from 
deference. 


CANTO  VI.  DOM   JUAN.  151 

LI. 

It  was  a  spacious  chamber  (Oda  is 

The  Turkish  title),  and  ranged  round  the  wall 
Were  couches,  toilets — and  much  more  than  this 

I  might  describe,  as  I  have  seen  it  all, 
But  it  suffices — little  was  amiss ; 

'T  was  on  the  whole  a  nobly  furnish'd  hajl, 
With  all  things  ladies  want,  save  one  or  two, 
And  even  those  were  nearer  than  they  knew. 


LII. 

Dudu,  as  has  been  said,  was  a  sweet  creature, 
Not  very  dashing,  but  extremely  winning. 

With  the  most  regulated  charms  of  feature. 
Which  painters  cannot  catch  like  faces  sinning 

Against  proportion  —  the  wild  strokes  of  nature 
Which  they  hit  off  at  once  in  the  beginning. 

Full  of  expression,  right  or  wrong,  that  strike, 

And  pleasing,  or  unpleasing,  still  are  like. 


4k 


LIII. 

But  she  was  a  soft  landscape  of  mild  earth, 
Where  all  was  harmony,  and  calm,  and  quiet. 

Luxuriant,  budding ;  cheerful  without  mirth. 
Which,  if  not  happiness,  is  much  more  nigh  it 

Than  are  your  mighty  passions  and  so  forth, 
WTiich,  some  call "  the  sublime : "  I  wish  they  'd  try  it 

I  've  seen  your  stormy  seas  and  stormy  women, 

And  pity  lovers  rather  more  than  seamen. 
L  4 


152 


DON   JUAN. 


LIV. 

But  she  was  pensive  more  than  melancholy, 
And  serious  more  than  pensive,  and  serene, 

It  may  be,  more  than  either — not  unholy 

Her  thoughts,  at  least  till  now,  appear  to  have  been. 

The  strangest  thing  was,  beauteous,  she  was  wholly 
Unconscious,  albeit  turn'd  of  quick  seventeen. 

That  she  was  fair,  or  dark,  or  short,  or  tall ; 

She  never  thought  about  herself  at  all. 

LV. 

And  therefore  was  she  kind  and  gentle  as 

The  Age  of  Gold  (when  gold  was  yet  unknown. 

By  which  its  nomenclature  came  to  pass ; 
Thus  most  appropriately  has  been  shown 

"  Lucus  a  non  lucendo,"  not  what  was. 

But  what  was  not;  a  sort  of  style  that's  grown 

Extremely  common  in  this  age,  whose  metal 

The  devil  may  decompose,  but  never  settle : 

LVI. 

I  think  it  may  be  of"  Corinthian  Brass,"  (^) 
\Vhich  was  a  mixture  of  all  metals,  but 

The  brazen  uppermost).     Kind  reader !  pass 
This  long  parenthesis  :  I  could  not  shut 

It  sooner  for  the  soul  of  me,  and  class 

My  faults  even  with  your  own !  which  meaneth,  Put 

A  kind  construction  upon  them  and  me : 

But  that  you  won't — then  don't — I  am  not  less  free. 


(1)  [This  brass,  so  famous  in  antiquity,  is  a  mixture  of  gold,  silver, 
and  copper,  and  is  supposed  to  have  been  produced  by  the  fusion  of  these 
metals,  in  which  Corinth  abounded,  when  it  was  sacked.  —  Sir  D.  Brew- 
ster.] 


ANTO  Yi.  DON   JUAN.  153 

LVII. 

Tis  time  we  should  return  to  plain  narration, 
And  thus  my  narrative  proceeds  : — Dudu^ 

With  every  kindness  short  of  ostentation, 

Show'd  Juan,  or  Juanna,  through  and  through 

This  labyrinth  of  females,  and  each  station      [few  : 
Described — what's  strange — in  words  extremely 

I  have  but  one  simile,  and  that's  a  blunder, 

For  wordless  woman,  which  is  silent  thunder. 


LVIII. 

And  next  she  gave  her  (I  say  her,  because 
The  gender  still  was  epicene,  at  least 

In  outward  show,  which  is  a  saving  clause) 
An  outline  of  the  customs  of  the  East, 

With  all  their  chaste  integrity  of  laws. 
By  which  the  more  a  haram  is  increased. 

The  stricter  doubtless  grow  the  vestal  duties 

Of  any  supernumerary  beauties. 


LIX. 

And  then  she  gave  Juanna  a  chaste  kiss : 
Dudu  was  fond  of  kissing — which  I'm  sure 

That  nobody  can  ever  take  amiss. 

Because  'tis  pleasant,  so  that  it  be  pure, 

And  between  females  means  no  more  than  this — 
That  they  have  nothing  better  near,  or  newer. 

"  Kiss"  rhymes  to  "  bliss"  in  fact  as  well  as  verse- 

I  wish  it  never  led  to  something  worse. 


154?  DON   JUAN.  CANTO 

LX. 

In  perfect  Innocence  she  then  unmade 
Her  toilet,  which  cost  little,  for  she  was 

A  child  of  Nature,  carelessly  array'd : 
If  fond  of  a  chance  ogle  at  her  glass, 

'Twas  like  the  fawn,  which,  in  the  lake  display'd, 
Beholds  her  own  shy,  shadowy  image  pass. 

When  first  she  starts,  and  then  returns  to  peep. 

Admiring  this  new  native  of  the  deep. 


LXI. 

And  one  by  one  her  articles  of  dress 

Were  laid  aside ;  but  not  before  she  ofFer'd 

Her  aid  to  fair  Juanna,  whose  excess 

Of  modesty  declined  the  assistance  profFer'd : 

Which  pass'd  well  off^ — as  she  could  do  no  less  ; 
Though  by  this  politesse  she  rather  sufFer'd, 

Pricking  her  fingers  with  those  cursed  pins. 

Which  surely  were  invented  for  our  sins, — 


LXII. 

Making  a  woman  like  a  porcupine. 

Not  to  be  rashly  touch'd.     But  still  more  dread, 
Oh  ye  !  whose  fate  it  is,  as  once  't  was  mine, 

In  early  youth,  to  turn  a  lady's  maid ; — 
I  did  my  very  boyish  best  to  shine 

In  tricking  her  out  for  a  masquerade  : 
The  pins  were  placed  sufficiently,  but  not 
Stuck  all  exactly  in  the  proper  spot. 


CANTO  VI.  DON   JUAN.  155 

LXIII. 

But  these  are  foolish  things  to  all  the  wise, 
And  I  love  wisdom  more  than  she  loves  me ; 

My  tendency  is  to  philosophise 

On  most  things,  from  a  tyrant  to  a  tree ; 

But  still  the  spouseless  virgin  Knmvledge  flies. 
What  are  we  ?  and  whence  came  we  ?  what  shall  be 

Our  ultimate  existence?  what's  our  present  ? 

Are  questions  answerless,  and  yet  incessant. 


LXIV. 

There  was  deep  silence  in  the  chamber  :  dim 
And  distant  from  each  other  burn'd  the  lights, 

And  slumber  hover'd  o'er  each  lovely  limb 

Of  the  fair  occupants :  if  there  be  sprites,  [trim, 

They  should  have  walk'd  there  in  their  sprightliest 
By  way  of  change  from  their  sepulchral  sites, 

And  shown  themselves  as  ghosts  of  better  taste 

Tlian  haunting  some  old  ruin  or  wild  waste. 


LXV. 

Many  and  beautiful  lay  those  around. 

Like  flowers  of  different  hue,  and  clime,  and  root, 
III  some  exotic  garden  sometimes  found. 

With  cost,  and  care,  and  warmth  induced  to  shoot. 
One  with  her  auburn  tresses  lightly  bound, 

And  fair  brows  gently  drooping,  as  the  fruit 
Nods  from  the  tree,  was  slumbering  with  soft  breath, 
And  lips  apart,  which  show'd  the  pearls  beneath. 


156  DON    JUAN.  CANtOVI. 

LXVI. 

One  with  her  flush'd  cheek  laid  on  her  white  arm, 
And  raven  ringlets  gather'd  in  dark  crowd 

Above  her  brow,  lay  dreaming  soft  and  warm ; 
And  smiling  through  her  dream,  as  through  a  cloud 

The  moon  breaks,  half  unveil'd  each  further  charm, 
As,  slightly  stirring  in  her  snowy  shroud, 

Her  beauties  seized  the  unconscious  hour  of  night 

All  bashfully  to  struggle  into  light. 


LXVII. 

This  is  no  bull,  although  it  sounds  so ;  for 

'T  was  night,  but  there  were  lamps,  ashathbeen  said. 

A  third's  all  pallid  aspect  ofFer'd  more 

The  traits  of  sleeping  sorrow,  and  betray'd 

Through  the  heavedbreast  the  dream  of  some  far  shore 
Beloved  and  deplored ;  while  slowly  stray 'd 

(As  night-dew,  on  a  cypress  glittering,  tinges 

The  black  bough)  tear-drops  through  her  eyes'  dark 
fringes. 

LXVIII. 

A  fourth  as  marble,  statue-like  and  still. 

Lay  in  a  breathless,  hush'd,  and  stony  sleep ; 

White,  cold,  and  pure,  as  looks  a  frozen  rill. 
Or  the  snow  minaret  on  an  Alpine  steep. 

Or  Lot's  wife  done  in  salt,  —  or  what  you  will ;  — 
My  similes  are  gather'd  in  a  heap^, 

So  pick  and  choose  —  perhaps  you'll  be  content 

With  a  carved  lady  on  a  monument. 


STO  VI.  DON   JUAN.  157 

LXIX. 

viid  lo  I  a  fifth  appears ; — and  what  is  she  ? 

A  lady  of  "  a  certain  age,"  which  means 
Certainly  aged — what  her  years  might  be 

I  know  not,  never  counting  past  their  teens ; 
But  there  she  slept,  not  quite  so  fair  to  see, 

As  ere  that  awful  period  intervenes 
Which  lays  both  men  and  women  on  the  shelf, 
To  meditate  upon  their  sins  and  self. 


LXX. 

But  all  this  time  how  slept,  or  dream'd,  Dudu  ? 

With  strict  enquiry  I  could  ne'er  discover, 
And  scorn  to  add  a  syllable  untrue ; 

But  ere  the  middle  watch  was  hardly  over,, 
Just  when  the  fading  lamps  waned  dim  and  blue. 

And  phantoms  hover'd,  or  might  seem  to  hover. 
To  those  who  like  their  company,  about 
The  apartment,  on  a  sudden  she  scream'd  out : 


LXXI. 

And  that  so  loudly,  that  upstarted  all 

The  Oda,  in  a  general  commotion  : 
Matron  and  maids,  and  those  whom  you  may  call 

Neither,  came  crowding  like  the  waves  of  ocean, 
One  on  the  other,  throughout  the  whole  hall. 

All  trembling,  wondering,  without  the  least  notion 
More  than  I  have  myself  of  what  could  make 
Hie  calm  Dxidd  so  turbulently  wake. 


158  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  VI. 

LXXIl. 

But  wide  awake  she  was,  and  round  her  bed, 
With  floating  draperies  and  with  flying  hair, 

With  eager  eyes,  and  light  but  hurried  tread. 
And  bosoms,  arms,  and  ankles  glancing  bare, 

And  bright  as  any  meteor  ever  bred 

By  the  North  Pole, — they  sought  her  cause  of  care, 

For  she  seem  'd  agitated,  flush'd,  and  frighten'd. 

Her  eye  dilated  and  her  colour  heighten'd. 


LXXIII. 

But  what  is  strange — and  a  strong  proof  how  great 
A  blessing  is  sound  sleep — Juanna  lay 

As  fast  as  ever  husband  by  his  mate 
In  holy  matrimony  snores  away. 

Not  all  the  clamour  broke  her  happy  state 

Of  slumber,  ere  they  shook  her,  —  so  they  say 

At  least, — and  then  she,  too,  unclosed  her  eyes, 

And  yawn'd  a  good  deal  with  discreet  surprise. 


LXXIV. 

And  now  commenced  a  strict  investigation. 

Which,  as  all  spoke  at  once,  and  more  than  once 

Conjecturing,  wondering,  asking  a  narration, 
Alike  might  puzzle  either  wit  or  dunce 

To  answer  in  a  very  clear  oration. 

Dudu  had  never  pass'd  for  wanting  sense, 

But,  being  "  no  orator  as  Brutus  is," 

Could  not  at  first  expound  what  was  amiss. 


I 


VTO  VL  DON  JUAN.  159 

LXXV. 

At  length  she  said,  that  in  a  slumber  sound 
She  dream'd  a  dream,  of  walking  in  a  wood — 

\  "  wood  obscure,"  like  that  where  Dante  found  Q) 
Himself  in  at  the  age  when  all  grow  good; 

Life's  half-way   house,   where    dames  with  virtue 
crown'd 
Run  much  less  risk  of  lovers  turning  rude ; 

And  that  this  wood  was  full  of  pleasant  fruits. 

And  trees  of  goodly  growth  and  spreading  roots ; 

LXXVI. 

.\nd  in  the  midst  a  golden  apple  grew, — 
A  most  prodigious  pippin — but  it  hung 

Rather  too  high  and  distant ;  that  she  threw 
Her  glances  on  it,  and  then,  longing,  flung 

Stones  and  whatever  she  could  pick  up,  to 

Bring  down  the  fruit,  which  still  perversely  clung 

To  its  own  bough,  and  dangled  yet  in  sight, 

But  always  at  a  most  provoking  height; — 

LXXVII. 

That  on  a  sudden,  when  she  least  had  hope, 
It  fell  down  of  its  own  accord  before 

Her  feet ;  that  her  first  movement  was  to  stoop 

And  pick  it  up,  and  bite  it  to  the  core ; 
!  !iat  just  as  her  young  lip  began  to  ope 
Upon  the  golden  fruit  the  vision  bore, 

A  bee  flew  out  and  stung  her  to  the  heart, 

And  so — she  awoke  with  a  great  scream  and  start 

(I)        "  Ncir  mezzo  del*  cnmnln*  di  nostra  vita 

Mi  ritrovai  per  una  telTa  oacura,"  &c.  —  Inferno. 


160  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  VI. 

LXXVIII. 

All  this  she  told  with  some  confusion  and 
Dismay,  the  usual  consequence  of  dreams 

Of  the  unpleasant  kind,  with  none  at  hand 
To  expound  their  vain  and  visionary  gleams. 

I've  known  some  odd  ones  which  seem'd  really  plann'd 
Prophetically,  or  that  which  one  deems 

A  "  strange  coincidence,"  to  use  a  phrase 

By  which  such  things  are  settled  now-a-days.  (^) 

LXXIX.  ^ 

The  damsels,  who  had  thoughts  of  some  great  harm, 

Began,  as  is  the  consequence  of  fear. 
To  scold  a  little  at  the  false  alarm 

That  broke  for  nothing  on  their  sleeping  ear. 
The  matron,  too,  was  wroth  to  leave  her  warm 

Bed  for  the  dream  she  had  been  obliged  to  hear. 
And  chafed  at  poor  Dudu,  who  only  sigh'd. 
And  said,  that  she  was  sorry  she  had  cried. 


LXXX. 

"  I've  heard  of  stories  of  a  cock  and  bull; 

But  visions  of  an  apple  and  a  bee, 
To  take  us  from  our  natural  rest,  and  pull 

The  whole  Oda  from  their  beds  at  half-past  three, 
Would  make  us  think  the  moon  is  at  its  full. 

You  surely  are  unwell,  child  I  we  must  see. 
To-morrow,  what  his  Highness's  physician 
Will  say  to  this  hysteric  of  a  vision. 


1 


4 


(1)  [One  of  the  advocates  employed  for  Queen  Caroline  in  the  House  ot 
Lords  spoke  of  some  of  the  most  puzzling  passages  in  the  history  of  her 
intercourse  with  Bergami,  as  amounting  to  "odd  instances  of  strange 
coincidence.  "J 


CANTO  vr. 


DON    JUAN.  161 


LXXXI. 

"  And  poor  Juanna,  too,  the  child's  first  night 
Within  these  walls,  to  be  broke  in  upon 

With  such  a  clamour — I  had  thought  it  right 
ITiat  the  young  stranger  should  not  lie  alone, 

And,  as  the  quietest  of  all,  she  might 

With  you,  Dudii,  a  good  night's  rest  have  known ; 

But  now  I  must  transfer  her  to  the  charge 

Of  Lolah  —  though  her  couch  is  not  so  large." 


LXXXII. 

Lolah's  eyes  sparkled  at  the  proposition ; 

But  poor  Dudu,  with  large  drops  in  her  own. 
Resulting  from  the  scolding  or  the  vision. 

Implored  that  present  pardon  might  be  shown 
For  this  first  fault,  and  that  on  no  condition 

(She  added  in  a  soft  and  piteous  tone) 
Juanna  should  be  taken  from  her,  and 
Her  future  dreams  should  all  be  kept  in  hand. 


LXXXIII. 

She  promised  never  more  to  have  a  dream. 
At  least  to  dream  so  loudly  as  just  now  ; 

She  wonder'd  at  herself  how  she  could  scream  — 
*Twa8  foolish,  nervous,  as  she  must  allow, 

A  fond  hallucination,  and  a  theme 

For  laughter — but  she  felt  her  spirits  low. 

And  begg'd  they  would  excuse  her ;  she'd  get  over 

This  weakness  in  a  few  hours,  and  recover. 

VOL.  XVI.  M 


162  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  V 

LXXXIV. 

And  here  Juanna  kindly  interposed, 

And  said  she  felt  herself  extremely  well 

Where  she  then  was,  as  her  sound  sleep  disclosed 
When  all  around  rang  like  a  tocsin  bell : 

She  did  not  find  herself  the  least  disposed 
To  quit  her  gentle  partner,  and  to  dwell 

Apart  from  one  who  had  no  sin  to  show 

Save  that  of  dreaming  once  "  mal-a-propos." 


LXXXV. 

As  thus  Juanna  spoke,  Dudu  turn'd  round 
And  hid  her  face  within  Juanna's  breast : 

Her  neck  alone  was  seen,  but  that  was  found 
The  colour  of  a  budding  rose's  crest. 

I  can't  tell  why  she  blush' d,  nor  can  expound 
The  mystery  of  this  rupture  of  their  rest ; 

All  that  I  know  is,  that  the  facts  I  state 

Are  true  as  truth  has  ever  been  of  late. 


LXXXVI. 

And  so  good  night  to  them,  —  or,  if  you  will. 
Good  morrow — for  the  cock  had  crown,  and  light 

Began  to  clothe  each  Asiatic  hill. 

And  the  mosque  crescent  struggled  into  sight 

Of  the  long  caravan,  which  in  the  chill 

Of  dewy  dawn  wound  slowly  round  each  height 

That  stretches  to  the  stony  belt^  which  girds 

Asia,  where  KafF  looks  down  upon  the  Kurds. 


ro  VI.  DON   JUAN.  163 

LXXXVII. 

With  the  first  ray,  or  rather  grey  of  morn^ 
Gulbeyaz  rose  from  restlessness ;  and  pale 

As  Passion  rises,  with  its  bosom  worn. 

Array 'd  herself  with  mantle,  gem,  and  veil. 

The  nightingale  that  sings  with  the  deep  thorn. 
Which  flible  places  in  her  breast  of  wail, 

Is  lighter  far  of  heart  and  voice  than  those 

Whose  headlong  passions  form  their  proper  woes. 


LXXXVIII. 

id  that's  the  moral  of  this  composition, 

If  people  would  but  see  its  real  drift ; — 
But  tJuU  they  will  not  do  without  suspicion, 

Because  all  gentle  readers  have  the  gift 
Of  closing  'gainst  the  light  their  orbs  of  vision ; 

While  gentle  writers  also  love  to  lift 
Their  voices  'gainst  each  other,  which  is  natural. 
The  numbers  are  too  great  for  them  to  flatter  all. 


LXXXIX. 

Roee  the  sultana  from  a  bed  of  splendour. 
Softer  than  the  soft  Sybarite's,  who  cried 

Aloud  because  his  feelings  were  too  tender 
To  brook  a  ruflBed  rose-leaf  by  his  side, — 

So  beautiful  that  art  could  little  mend  her, 

Though   pale  with    conflicts   between   love   and 

-^u  agitated  was  she  with  her  error,  [pride ; — 

She  did  not  even  look  into  the  mirror. 
M  2 


164  DON    JUAN.  CA 

XC. 

Also  arose  about  the  self-same  time, 
Perhaps  a  little  later,  her  great  lord. 

Master  of  thirty  kingdoms  so  sublime. 
And  of  a  wife  by  whom  he  was  abhorr'd ; 

A  thing  of  much  less  import  in  that  clime  — 
At  least  to  those  of  incomes  which  afford 

The  filling  up  their  whole  connubial  cargo  — 

Than  where  two  wives  are  under  an  embargo. 


xci. 
He  did  not  think  much  on  the  matter,  nor 

Indeed  on  any  other :  as  a  man 
He  liked  to  have  a  handsome  paramour 

At  hand,  as  one  may  like  to  have  a  fan. 
And  therefore  of  Circassians  had  good  store^ 

As  an  amusement  after  the  Divan ; 
Though  an  unusual  fit  of  love,  or  duty. 
Had  made  him  lately  bask  in  his  bride's  beauty.     A: 


XCII. 

And  now  he  rose ;  and  after  due  ablutions 
Exacted  by  the  customs  of  the  East, 

And  prayers  and  other  pious  evolutions. 
He  drank  six  cups  of  coffee  at  the  least, 

And  then  withdrew  to  hear  about  the  Russians, 
Whose  victories  had  recently  increased 

In  Catherine's  reign,  whom  glory  still  adores 

As  greatest  of  all  sovereigns  and  w s. 


CANTO  VI.  DON   JUAN.  165 

XCIII. 

But  oh,  thou  grand  legitimate  Alexander ! 

Her  son's  son,  let  not  this  last  phrase  offend 
Thine  ear,  if  it  should  reach — and  now  rhymes  wander 

Almost  as  far  as  Petersburgh,  and  lend 
A  dreadful  impulse  to  each  loud  meander 

Of  murmuring  Liberty's  wide  waves,  which  blend 
Their  roar  even  with  the  Baltic's  —  so  you  be 
Your  father's  son,  'tis  quite  enough  for  me. 


xciv. 
To  call  men  love-begotten,  or  proclaim 

Their  mothers  as  the  antipodes  of  Timon, 
That  hater  of  mankind,  would  be  a  shame, 

A  libel,  or  whate'er  you  please  to  rhyme  on : 
But  people's  ancestors  are  history's  game ; 

And  if  one  lady's  slip  could  leave  a  crime  on 
All  generations,  I  should  like  to  know 
What  pedigree  the  best  would  have  to  show  ? 


xcv. 
Had  Catherine  and  the  sultan  understood 

Their  own  true  interests,  which  kings  rarely  know, 
Until  'tis  taught  by  lessons  rather  rude, 

There  was  a  way  to  end  their  strife,  although 
Perhaps  precarious,  had  they  but  thought  good, 

Without  the  aid  of  prince  or  plenipo : 
^e  to  dismiss  her  guards  and  he  his  haram, 
iud  for  their  other  matters,  meet  and  share  'era. 
M  3 


166  DON    JUAN.  CAN 

XCVI. 

But  as  it  was,  his  Highness  had  to  hold 
His  daily  council  upon  ways  and  means 

How  to  encounter  with  this  martial  scold. 
This  modern  Amazon  and  queen  of  queans ; 

And  the  perplexit}'^  could  not  be  told 

Of  all  the  pillars  of  the  state,  which  leans 

Sometimes  a  little  heavy  on  the  backs 

Of  those  who  cannot  lay  on  a  new  tax. 

XCVII. 

Meantime  Gulbeyaz,  when  her  king  was  gone. 
Retired  into  her  boudoir,  a  sweet  place 

For  love  or  breakfast ;  private,  pleasing,  lone, 
And  rich  with  all  contrivances  which  grace 

Those  gay  recesses: — many  a  precious  stone 
Sparkled  along  its  roof,  and  many  a  vase 

Of  porcelain  held  in  the  fetter'd  flowers, 

Those  captive  soothers  of  a  captive's  hours. 

XCVIII. 

Mother  of  pearl,  and  porphyry,  and  marble, 
Vied  with  each  other  on  this  costly  spot ; 

And  singing  birds  without  were  heard  to  warble ; 
And  the  stain'd  glass  which  lighted  this  fair  grot 

Varied  each  ray;  —  but  all  descriptions  garble 
The  true  effect,  (^)  and  so  we  had  better  not 

Be  too  minute;  an  outline  is  the  best, — 

A  lively  reader's  fancy  does  the  rest. 


(1)  [Motraye,  in  describing  the  interior  of  the  Grand  Signior's  palace, 
into  which  he  gained  admission  as  the  assistant  of  a  watch-maker,  who  was 
employed  to  regulate  the  clocks,  says  that  the  eunuch  who  received  them 


I 


-ANTO  VI.  DON   JUAN.  167 

XCIX. 

And  here  she  summon'd  Baba,  and  required 
Don  Juan  at  his  hands,  and  information 

Of  what  had  pass'd  since  all  the  slaves  retired, 
And  whether  he  had  occupied  their  station ; 

If  matters  had  been  managed  as  desired, 
And  his  disguise  with  due  consideration 

Kept  up ;  and  above  all,  the  where  and  how 

He  had  pass'd  the  night,  was  what  she  wish'd  to  know. 

c. 
Baba,  with  some  embarrassment,  replied 

To  this  long  catechism  of  questions,  ask'd 
More  easily  than  answer'd, — that  he  had  tried 

His  best  to  obey  in  what  he  had  been  task'd ; 
But  there  seem'd  something  that  he  wish'd  to  hide, 

Which  hesitation  more  betray'd  than  mask'd ; 
He  scratch'd  his  ear,  the  infallible  resource 
To  which  embarrass'd  people  have  recourse. 

CI. 

Gulbeyaz  was  no  model  of  true  patience. 
Nor  much  disposed  to  wait  in  word  or  deed ; 

She  liked  quick  answers  in  all  conversations ; 
And  when  she  saw  him  stumbling  like  a  steed 


at  the  (  •    r-  haram,  conducted  them  into  a  hall,  which  appeared  t» 

be  the  :  apartment  in  the  edifice :  —  "  Cette  salle  est  incrustee 

de  poriL— V  ,  ^i  Iclambrisdore  et  azurt'  qui  ornclefond  d'unecoupole 

qui  rJgne  au^esius,  e«t  des  plus  riches.  Une  fontaine  artificielle  et  jaiU 
lisMntc.dont  Ic  basin  est  d'un  prtcieux  marbre  verd  qui  m'a  paru  serpentin 
<iU  Jaspe,  s'elevoit  directement  au  milieu,  sous  le  dAme.  Je  me  trouvai 
a  tite  »i  pleine  de  sophas,  de  precieux  plafonds,  de  meubles  superbes,  en 
un  mot,  d^ine  ti  grande  confusion  de  mat^riaux  magnifiques,  qu'il  seroit 
( d'cn  donner  une  id*e  claire."  —  Voyages,  torn.  L  p.  220.] 
M    4 


168  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  VI. 


In  his  replies^  she  puzzled  him  for  fresh  ones ; 

And  as  his  speech  grew  still  more  broken-kneed, 
Her  cheek  began  to  flush,  her  eyes  to  sparkle, 
And  her  proud  brow's  blue  veins  to  swell  and  darkle. 

CII. 

When  Baba  saw  these  symptoms,  which  he  knew 
To  bode  him  no  great  good,  he  deprecated 

Her  anger,  and  beseech'd  she'd  hear  him  through — 
He  could  not  help  the  thing  which  he  related : 

Then  out  it  came  at  length,  that  to  Dudu 

Juan  was  given  in  charge,  as  hath  been  stated ; 

But  not  by  Baba's  fault,  he  said,  and  swore  on 

The  holy  camel's  hump,  besides  the  Koran. 

cm. 
The  chief  dame  of  the  Oda,  upon  whom 

The  discipline  of  the  whole  haram  bore. 
As  soon  as  they  re-enter'd  their  own  room, 

For  Baba's  function  stopt  short  at  the  door. 
Had  settled  all ;  nor  could  he  then  presume 

(The  aforesaid  Baba)  just  then  to  do  more. 
Without  exciting  such  suspicion  as 
Might  make  the  matter  still  worse  than  it  was. 

CIV. 

He  hoped,  indeed  he  thought,  he  could  be  sure 
Juan  had  not  betray'd  himself;  in  fact 

'Twas  certain  that  his  conduct  had  been  pure. 
Because  a  foolish  or  imprudent  act 


CAJrro  Ti.  DON   JUAN.  169 

".'ould  not  alone  have  made  him  insecm-e, 

But  ended  in  his  being  found  out  and  sacKd, 
And  thrown  into  the  sea.(i) — Thus  Baba  spoke 
Of  all  save  Dudu's  dream,  which  was  no  joke. 

cv. 
This  he  discreetly  kept  in  the  back  ground, 

And  talk'd  away — and  might  have  talk'd  till  now. 
For  any  further  answer  that  he  found, 

So  deep  an  anguish  wrung  Gulbeyaz*  brow ; 
Her  cheek  turn'd  ashes,  ears  rung,  brain  whirl'd  round, 

As  if  she  had  received  a  sudden  blow. 
And  the  heart 's  dew  of  pain  sprang  fast  and  chilly 
O'er  her  fair  front,  like  Morning's  on  a  lily. 

cvi. 
Klthough  she  was  not  of  the  fainting  sort, 

IJaba  thought  she  would  faint,  but  there  he  err  d — 
it  was  but  a  convulsion,  which  though  short 

Can  never  be  described ;  we  all  have  heard. 
And  some  of  us  have  felt  thus  ''  all  amort," {^) 

When  things  beyond  the  common  have  occurr'd ; — 
Gulbeyaz  proved  in  that  brief  agony 
What  she  could  ne'er  express — then  how  should  I? 

CVII. 

'*'*       '  hhI  a  moment  as  a  Pythoness 

is  on  her  tripod,  agonised,  and  full 
iration  gather'd  from  distress, 
^    --a  all  the  heart-strings  like  wild  horses  pull 

(1)  CSee  amw.  Vol  IX.  p.  SOO.] 

^«)  I**  How  fans  my  Kate?    What !  iweetlng,  all  amort  ?" 

Taming  of  the  Shrew.2 


170  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  vr. 

The  heart  asunder; — then,  as  more  or  less 

Their  speed  abated  or  their  strength  grew  dull, 
She  sunk  down  on  her  seat  by  slow  degrees, 
And  bow'd  her  throbbing  head  o'er  trembling  knees. 

CVIII. 

Her  face  declined  and  was  unseen ;  her  hair 
Fell  in  long  tresses  like  the  weeping  willow, 

Sweeping  the  marble  underneath  her  chair. 
Or  rather  sofa,  (for  it  was  all  pillow, 

A  low,  soft  ottoman,)  and  black  despair 

Stirr'd  up  and  down  her  bosom  like  a  billow. 

Which  rushes  to  some  shore  whose  shingles  check 

Its  farther  course,  but  must  receive  its  wreck. 

cix. 
Her  head  hung  down,  and  her  long  hair  in  stooping 

Conceal'd  her  features  better  than  a  veil ; 
And  one  hand  o'er  the  ottoman  lay  drooping. 

White,  waxen,  and  as  alabaster  pale : 
Would  that  I  were  a  painter !  to  be  grouping 

All  that  a  poet  drags  into  detail ! 
Oh  that  my  words  were  colours !  but  their  tints 
May  serve  perhaps  as  outlines  or  slight  hints. 

ex. 
Baba,  who  knew  by  experience  when  to  talk 

And  when  to  hold  his  tongue,  now  held  it  till 
This  passion  might  blow  o'er,  nor  dared  to  balk 

Gulbeyaz'  taciturn  or  speaking  will. 


DON    JUAN. 


171 


\t  length  she  rose  up,  and  began  to  walk 
Slowly  along  the  room,  but  silent  still, 
And  her  brow  clear'd,  but  not  her  troubled  eye 
T^^^'  ^vind  was  down,  but  still  the  sea  ran  high. 


CXI. 

le  stopp'd,  and  raised  her  head  to   speak  —  but 
paused, 

And  then  moved  on  again  with  rapid  pace ; 
Then  slacken'd  it,  which  is  the  march  most  caused 

By  deep  emotion  : — you  may  sometimes  trace 
A  feeling  in  each  footstep,  as  disclosed 

By  Sallust  in  his  Catiline,  who,  chased 
By  all  the  demons  of  all  passions,  show'd 
Their  work  even  by  the  way  in  which  he  trode.(^) 


cxii. 
Gulbeyaz  stopp'd  and  beckon'd  Baba : — "  Slave  I 

Bring  the  two  slaves  I "  she  said  in  a  low  tone, 
But  one  which  Baba  did  not  like  to  brave, 

And  yet  he  shudder'd,  and  seem'd  rather  prone 
To  prove  reluctant,  and  begg'd  leave  to  crave 

(Though  he  well  knew  the  meaning)  to  be  shown 
What  slaves  her  highness  wish'd  to  indicate, 
lor  fear  of  any  error,  like  the  late. 


(I)  [••  HU  fulUjr  MNtl,  at  enmity  with  gods  and  men,  could  find  no  rest ; 
M  TiolcntJf  «M  hit  miad  torn  and  distracted  by  a  consciousness  of  guilt. 
Aonrdiof Ijr  hU  oountcnaoce  was  pale,  his  eyes  ghastly,  his  pace  one  while 
qoick.  aoodMr  alow  j  Indeed,  In  all  his  looks  there  was  an  air  of  distrac- 
tioaL'*~8au.u»r.] 


172  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  VI. 

CXIII. 

"  The  Georgian  and  her  paramour, "  replied 

The  imperial  bride — and  added,  "  Let  the  boat 

Be  ready  by  the  secret  portal's  side : 
You  know  the  rest. "    The  words  stuck  in  her  throat, 

Despite  her  injured  love  and  fiery  pride ; 
And  of  this  Baba  wiUingly  took  note. 

And  begg'd  by  every  hair  of  Mahomet's  beard, 

She  would  revoke  the  order  he  had  heard. 


cxiv. 
"  To  hear  is  to  obey,"  he  said;  "  but  still, 

Sultana,  think  upon  the  consequence : 
It  is  not  that  I  shall  not  all  fulfil 

Your  orders,  even  in  their  severest  sense 
But  such  precipitation  may  end  ill, 

Even  at  your  own  imperative  expense : 
I  do  not  mean  destruction  and  exposure, 
In  case  of  any  premature  disclosure ; 


cxv. 
"  But  your  own  feelings.    Even  should  all  the  rest 

Be  hidden  by  the  rolling  waves,  which  hide 
Already  many  a  once  love-beaten  breast 

Deep  in  the  caverns  of  the  deadly  tide  — 
You  love  this  boyish,  new,  seraglio  guest. 

And  if  this  violent  remedy  be  tried — 
Excuse  my  freedom,  when  I  here  assure  you. 
That  killing  him  is  not  the  way  to  cure  you." 


"VTOVi.  DON    JUAN.  173 

CXVI. 

\\>.at  dost  thou  know  of  love  or  feeling? — Wretch  I 

Begone!"  she  cried,  with  kindling  eyes — "and  do 
Mv  bidding ! "  Baba  vanish'd,  for  to  stretch 

His  own  remonstrance  further  he  well  knew 
'  light  end  in  acting  as  his  own  "  Jack  Ketch;" 

And  though  he  wish'd  extremely  to  get  through 
This  awkward  business  without  harm  to  others, 
He  still  preforrM  his  own  neck  to  another's. 


CXVII. 

vay  he  went  then  upon  his  commission. 

Growling  and  grumbling  in  good  Turkish  phrase 
Against  all  women  of  whate'er  condition, 

Especially  sultanas  and  their  ways ; 
Their  obstinacy,  pride,  and  indecision. 

Their  never  knowing  their  own  mind  two  days, 
The  trouble  that  they  gave,  their  immorality. 
Which  made  him  daily  bless  his  own  neutrality. 


CXVIII. 

And  then  he  call'd  his  brethren  to  his  aid, 
And  sent  one  on  a  summons  to  the  pair, 

iiat  they  must  instantly  be  well  array'd. 
And  above  all  be  comb'd  even  to  a  hair, 

!id  brought  l)efore  the  empress,  who  had  made 
Enquiries  after  them  with  kindest  care : 

t  which  Dudu  look'd  strange,  and  Juan  silly; 

at  go  they  must  at  once,  and  will  I — nill  I. 


174  DON   JUAN.  CAN- 

CXIX, 

And  here  I  leave  them  at  their  preparation 
For  the  imperial  presence,  wherein  whether 

Gulbeyaz  sliow'd  them  both  commiseration, 
Or  got  rid  of  the  parties  altogether,, 

Like  other  angry  ladies  of  her  nation, — 
Are  things  the  turning  of  a  hair  or  feather 

May  settle  ;  but  far  be 't  from  me  to  anticipate 

In  what  way  feminine  caprice  may  dissipate. 


cxx. 

I  leave  them  for  the  present  with  good  wishes, 
Though  doubts  of  their  well  doing,  to  arrange 

Another  part  of  history ;  for  the  dishes 

Of  this  our  banquet  we  must  sometimes  change 

And  trusting  Juan  may  escape  the  fishes. 
Although  his  situation  now  seems  strange. 

And  scarce  secure,  as  such  digressions  are  fair^ 

The  Muse  will  take  a  little  touch  at  warfare. 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO    THE    SEVENTH.  (1) 


(1)  [**  The  wrenth  and  eighth  Cantos  contain  a  full  detail  (like  the  storm 
in  Canto  Mcood)  of  the  siege  and  assault  of  Ismail,  with  much  of  sarcasm 
on  tbote  butchen  in  large  business,  your  mercenary  soldiers.  With  these 
thinp  and  these  fellows  it  is  necessary,  in  the  present  clash  of  philosophy 
aad  tyranny,  to  throw  away  the  scabbard.  I  know  it  is  against  fearfUl 
oidi ;  but  the  Inttle  mu*t  be  fought ;  and  it  will  be  eventually  for  the 
food  at  mankind,  whatever  it  may  be  for  the  individual  who  risks  biso* 
Mif— A  UUerM^  Aug.  &  182a] 


177 


DON     JUAN. 


CANTO   THE    SEVENTH. 


I. 

O  Love  !  O  Glory  !  what  are  ye  who  fly 

Around  us  ever,  rarely  to  alight? 
There's  not  a  meteor  in  the  polar  sky 

( )f  such  transcendent  and  more  fleeting  flight. 
Lhill,  and  chain'd  to  cold  earth,  we  lift  on  high 

Our  eyes  in  search  of  either  lovely  light ; 
A  thousand  and  a  thousand  colours  they 
Assume,  then  leave  us  on  our  freezing  way. 

II. 
And  such  as  they  are,  such  my  present  tale  is, 

A  non-descript  and  ever-varying  rhyme, 
'  —  ified  Aurora  Borealis, 

li  flashes  o'er  a  waste  and  icy  clime. 
When  we  know  what  all  are,  we  must  bewail  us, 

But  ne  ertheless  I  hope  it  is  no  crime 
To  laugh  at  all  things — for  I  wish  to  know 
^^'liatt  after  cUl,  are  all  things — but  a  show  ? 

VOL.  XVI.  N 


178 


DON   JUAN. 


III. 

They  accuse  me — Me — the  present  writer  of 
The  present  poem  —  of — I  know  not  what — 

A  tendency  to  under-rate  and  scoff 

At  human  power  and  virtue,  and  all  that ; 

And  this  they  say  in  language  rather  rough. 
Good  God  !     I  wonder  what  they  would  be  at ! 

I  say  no  more  than  hath  been  said  in  Dante's 

Verse,  and  by  Solomon  and  by  Cervantes ; 

IV. 

By  Swift,  by  Machiavel,  by  Rochefoucault, 
By  Fenelon,  by  Luther,  and  by  Plato ; 

By  Tillotson,  and  Wesley,  and  Rousseau, 
Who  knew  this  life  was  not  worth  a  potato. 

'Tis  not  their  fault,  nor  mine,  if  this  be  so  — 
For  my  part,  I  pretend  not  to  be  Cato, 

Nor  even  Diogenes. — We  live  and  die. 

But  which  is  best,  you  know  no  more  than  I. 

V. 

Socrates  said,  our  only  knowledge  was  (') 

"  To  know  that  nothing  could  be  known ; "  a  pleasant 

Science  enough,  which  levels  to  an  ass 

Each  man  of  wisdom,  future,  past,  or  present. 

Newton  (that  proverb  of  the  mind),  alas  ! 

Declared,  with  all  his  grand  discoveries  recent, 


(1)  ["  Scrawled  this  additional  page  of  life's  log-book.  One  day  more  \<' 
over  of  it,  and  of  me  ;  —but,  '  which  is  best,  life  or  death,  the  gods  only 
know,'  as  Socrates  said  to  his  judges,  on  the  breaking  up  of  the  tribunal. 
Two  thousand  years  since  that  sage's  declaration  of  ignorance  have  not 
enlightened  us  more  upon  this  important  point.  —  B.  Diary,  1821/] 


v^.vxo  vii.  DON   JUAN.  179 

Tliat  he  himself  felt  only  "  like  a  youth 

Picking  up  shells  by  the  great  ocean — Truth." (i) 

VI. 

Ecclesiastes  said,  "  that  all  is  vanity" — 

Most  modern  preachers  say  the  same,  or  show  it 

By  their  examples  of  true  Christianity : 

In  short,  all  know,  or  very  soon  may  know  it ; 

And  in  this  scene  of  all-confess'd  inanity, 
By  saint,  by  sage,  by  preacher,  and  by  poet, 

Must  I  restrain  me,  through  the  fear  of  strife, 

From  holding  up  the  nothingness  of  life  ? 

VII. 

Dogs,  or  men  I — for  I  flatter  you  (2)  in  saying 
That  ye  are  dogs  — your  betters  far — ye  may 

Read,  or  read  not,  what  I  am  now  essaying 
To  show  ye  what  ye  are  in  every  way. 

As  little  as  the  moon  stops  for  the  baying 

Of  wolves,  will  the  bright  muse  withdraw  one  ray 

From  out  her  skies  —  then  howl  your  idle  wrath  ! 

"^Miile  she  still  silvers  o'er  your  gloomy  path. 

i;  [A  ihort  time  before  hi«  death,  he  uttered  this  memorable  senti- 
ment:—" I  do  not  know  what  I  may  appear  to  the  world;  but  to  myself 
I  teem  to  h«ve  been  only  like  a  boy  playing  on  the  sea-shore,  and  diverting 
myteir  in  now  and  then  finding  a  smoother  pebble  or  a  prettier  shell  than 
ordinary,  whiUt  the  great  ocean  of  truth  lay  all  undiscovered  before  me." 
—  What  a  leMon  to  the  vanity  and  presumption  of  philosophers;  to  those, 
etpecially,  who  have  never  e^en  found  the  smoother  pebble  or  the  prettier 
•bell !  What  a  preparation  for  the  latest  enquiries,  and  the  last  views,  of  the 
•tocayifK  «l»irit,  — for  tbo«e  inspired  doctrines  which  alone  can  throw  a. 
Uf  btover  the  d*rk  ocean  of  undiscovered  truth  !  "—Sir  David  Brewster.] 

(S)  [Sec  "  InKription  oo  the  Monument  of  a  Newfoundland  Dog,"  anti, 
▼dVIL  PL292.] 

N    2 


ISO  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  vii. 

VIII. 

"  Fierce  loves  and  faithless  wars" — I  am  not  sure 
If  this  be  the  right  reading  —  'tis  no  matter; 

The  fact's  about  the  same,  I  am  secure ; 
I  sing  them  both,  and  am  about  to  batter 

A  town  which  did  a  famous  siege  endure, 

And  was  beleaguer'd  both  by  land  and  water  Q) 

By  SouvarofF,  or  Anglice  Suwarrow, 

Who  loved  blood  as  an  alderman  loves  marrow. 

IX.  ^' 

The  fortress  is  call'd  Ismail,  and  is  placed 

Upon  the  Danube's  left  branch  and  left  bank,  (-) 
With  buildings  in  the  Oriental  taste, 

But  still  a  fortress  of  the  foremost  rank. 
Or  was  at  least,  unless  'tis  since  defaced. 

Which  with  your  conquerors  is  a  common  prank : 
It  stands  some  eighty  versts  from  the  high  sea. 
And  measures  round  of  toises  thousands  three.  (•'^) 


X. 

Within  the  extent  of  this  fortification 
A  borough  is  comprised  along  the  height 

Upon  the  left,  which  from  its  loftier  station 
Commands  the  city,  and  upon  its  site 


4 


(1)  ["  An.  1790.  Le  30  de  Novembre  on  s"approcha  de  la  place ;  1m 
troupes  de  terres  formaient  un  total  de  vingt  mille  hommes,  ind^pendam- 
ment  de  sept  k  huit  mille  Kozaks." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  torn.  ii. 
p.  201.] 

(2)  ["  Ismael  est  situ6  sur  la  rive  gauche  du  bras  gauche  du  Danube." 
-iJirf:] 

(3)  [  "  k  peu  pr^s  k  quatre-vingts  verstes  de  la  mer ;  elle  a  pres 
de  trois  milles  toises  de  tour."  — /6?d.] 


CANTO  vn.  DON   JUAN.  181 

A  Greek  had  raised  around  this  elevation 

A  quantity  of  palisades  upright. 
So  placed  as  to  impede  the  fire  of  those 
WTio  held  the  place,  and  to  assist  the  foe's.  Q) 

XI. 

This  circumstance  may  serve  to  give  a  notion 
Of  the  high  talents  of  this  new  Vauban : 

But  the  town  ditch  below  was  deep  as  ocean, 
The  rampart  higher  than  you'd  wish  to  hang : 

But  then  there  was  a  great  want  of  precaution 
(Prithee,  excuse  this  engineering  slang). 

Nor  work  advanced,  nor  cover'd  way  was  there,  ('-) 

To  hint  at  least  "  Here  is  no  thoroughfare." 

XII. 

But  a  stone  bastion,  with  a  narrow  gorge. 

And  walls  as  thick  as  most  skulls  born  as  yet ; 

Two  batteries,  cap-a-pie,  as  our  St.  George, 

Case-mated (^)  one,  and  t'other  "  a  barbette," (■*) 


(1)  ["  On  a  comprjs  dans  ccs  fortifications  un  faubourg  Moldave,  situ^ 
1^  U  gauche  de  la  ville,  sur  une  hauteur  qui  la  domine  :  Touvrage  &  ete 
tcrmine  par  un  Grec.  Pour  donner  une  idee  des  talens  de  cet  ing^nieur; 
U  mflra  de  difc  qu'il  fit  placer  les  palissadcs  perfiendiculairenicnt  sur  le 
parapet,  de  meniire  qu'elles  favorisaient  les  assiegeans,  et  arretaient  le 
fru  de*  aMi^gCa."  —  Ilist.  de  la  N.  R.  p.  202.] 

(2)  [**  Le  mnpart  en  terre  est  prodigieusement  ^levfe,  &  cause  de  rim- 
aenae  proTondeur  du  foase ;  il  est  cependant  absolument  rasant ;  il  n'y  a 
M  ourrage  avanc^,  ni  chemin  ecu  vert "  —  Ibid.  p.  202.] 

(S)  [Caaemate  U  a  work  made  under  the  rampart,  like  a  cellar  or  cave, 
«llil  loopbolca  to  place  guns  in  it,  and  is  bomb  proof.  —  Milit.  DictJ 

(4)  C^^^liCB  tlM  bwatwork  of  a  battery  is  only  of  such  height  that  the 
gun*  may  Are  over  It  without  being  obliged  to  make  embrasures,  the  guns 
are  Mid  to  flre  in  tMibet  —  /6i</.] 

N   3 


182 


DON    JUAN. 


Of  Danube's  bank  took  formidable  charge ; 

While  two  and  twenty  cannon  duly  set 
Rose  over  the  town's  right  side,  in  bristling  tier, 
Forty  feet  high,  upon  a  cavalier.  (*) 

XIII. 

But  from  the  river  the  town  's  open  quite. 
Because  the  Turks  could  never  be  persuaded 

A  Russian  vessel  e'er  would  heave  in  sight ;  (-) 
And  such  their  creed  was,  till  they  were  invaded, 

When  it  grew  rather  late  to  set  things  right. 
But  as  the  Danube  could  not  well  be  waded, 

They  look'd  upon  the  Muscovite  flotilla. 

And  only  shouted,  "  Allah !"  and  "  Bis  Millahl'* 

XIV, 

The  Russians  now  were  ready  to  attack ; 

But  oh,  ye  goddesses  of  war  and  glory ! 
How  shall  I  spell  the  name  of  each  Cossacque 

Who  were  immortal,  could  one  tell  their  story  ? 
Alas  !  what  to  their  memory  can  lack  ? 

Achilles'  self  was  not  more  grim  and  gory 
Than  thousands  of  this  new  and  polish'd  nation. 
Whose  names  want  nothing  but — pronunciation. 


(1)  ["  Un  bastion  de  pierres,  ouvert  par  une  gorge  trfes-^troite,  et  dont 
les  raurailles  son  fort  epaisses,  a  un  batterie  casemat^e  et  une  k  barbette; 
il  d^''eii  1  la  rive  du  Danube.  Du  c6te  droit  de  la  ville  est  un  cavalier  de 
quara-ite  pieds  d'^levation  k  pic,  garni  de  vingt-deux  pifeces  de  canon,  et 
qui  defend  la  partie  gauche."  — if «/.  de  la  N.  R.  p.  202.] 

(2)  ["  Du  c6t^  du  fleuve,  la  ville  est  absolument  ouverte ;  les  Turcs  ne 
croyaient  pas  que  les  Russes  pussent  jamais  avoir  une  flotille  dans  le  Da- 
mibe."  — iJirf.  p.20a] 


CANTO  Ml.  DON    JUAN.  183 

XV. 

Still  rU  record  a  few,  if  but  to  increase 
Our  euphony :  there  was  Strongenoff,  and  Strokonoff, 

Meknop,  Serge  Low,  Arsniew  of  modern  Greece, 
And  TschitsshakofF,  and  RoguenofF,  and  ChokenofF, 

And  others  of  twelve  consonants  apiece ; 
And  more  might  be  found  out,  if  I  could  poke  enough 

Into  gazettes ;  but  Fame  (capricious  strumpet). 

It  seems,  has  got  an  ear  as  well  as  trumpet, 

XVI. 

And  cannot  tune  those  discords  of  narration, 
Which  may  be  names  at  Moscow,  into  rhyme ; 

Yet  there  were  several  worth  commemoration, 
As  e'er  was  virgin  of  a  nuptial  chime ; 

Soft  words,  too,  fitted  for  the  peroration 
Of  Londonderry  drawling  against  time. 

Ending  in  "  ischskin,"  "  ousckin,"  "  iffskchy,"  "  ouski," 

Of  whom  we  can  insert  but  Rousamouski,  Q) 

XVII. 

Scherematoff  and  Chrematoff,  Koklophti, 
Koclobski,  Kourakin,  and  Mouskin  Pouskin, 

All  proper  men  of  weapons,  as  e'er  scoff'd  high 
Against  a  foe,  or  ran  a  sabre  through  skin : 


Cl)  ["  I*  premise  attaque  etait  compog^e  de  trois  colonnes,  com- 
mamUc*  par  la  lieutenaiu-generaux  Paul  Poticmkin,  Serge  Lwow, 
let  fin^rmux.iiuiion  Lascy,  Theodore  Meknop.  TroU  autres  colonne* 
poor  dicfk  le  Cotnte  SamoTlow,  lea  g^n<!raux  Elie  de  Bczborodko, 
le«  brigadiers  Orlow,  Platow,  Ribaupierre.  La 
par  eau  n'avait  que  deux  colonnes,  sous  les  ordres  det 
RitMta  et  Ars^niew,  des  brigadiers  Markoff  et  Tchep^ga," 
ke.^ai$t.telaN.R.  p.  207.] 

N    4 


184« 


DON   JUAN. 


Little  cared  they  for  Mahomet  or  Mufti, 

Unless  to  make  their  kettle-drums  a  new  skin 
Out  of  their  hides,  if  parchment  had  grown  dear, 
And  no  more  handy  substitute  been  near. 

XVIII. 

Then  there  were  foreigners  of  much  renown, 
Of  various  nations,  and  all  volunteers ; 

Not  fighting  for  their  country  or  its  crown, 
But  wishing  to  be  one  day  brigadiers : 

Also  to  have  the  sacking  of  a  town ; 

A  pleasant  thing  to  young  men  at  their  years. 

'Mongst  them  were  several  Englishmen  of  pith. 

Sixteen  call'd  Thomson,  and  nineteen  named  Smith. 

xix. 
Jack  Thomson  and  Bill  Thomson; — all  the  rest 

Had  been  call'd  "  Jemmy"  after  the  great  bard ; 
I  don't  know  whether  they  had  arms  or  crest. 

But  such  a  godfather 's  as  good  a  card. 
Three  of  the  Smiths  were  Peters ;  but  the  best 

Amongst  them  all,  hard  blows  to  inflict  or  ward, 
Was  Ae,  since  so  renown'd  "  in  country  quarters 
At  Halifax  ;"(^)  but  now  he  served  the  Tartars. 

XX. 

The  rest  were  Jacks  and  Gills  and  Wills  and  Bills ; 

But  when  I  Ve  added  that  the  elder  Jack  Smith 
Was  born  in  Cumberland  among  the  hills. 

And  that  his  father  was  an  honest  blacksmith, 

(1)  [See  the  farce  of"  Love  Laughs  at  Locksmiths."] 


CAJITO  VII. 


DON    JUAN.  185 


I  've  said  all  /  know  of  a  name  that  fills      [smith," 
Three  lines  of  the  despatch  in  taking  "  Schmack- 
A  village  of  Moldavia's  waste,  wherein 
He  fell,  immortal  in  a  bulletin. 


I  wonder  (although  Mars  no  doubt's  a  god  I 

Praise)  if  a  man's  name  in  a  bulletin 
May  make  up  for  a  bullet  in  his  body  ? 

I  hope  this  little  question  is  no  sin. 
Because,  though  I  am  but  a  simple  noddy, 

I  tliink  one  Shakspeare  puts  the  same  thought  in 
The  mouth  of  some  one  in  his  plays  so  doting. 
Which  many  people  pass  for  wits  by  quoting. 

xxir. 
Then  there  were  Frenchmen,  gallant,  young,  and  gay : 

But  I  'm  too  great  a  patriot  to  record 
Their  Gallic  names  upon  a  glorious  day ; 

I  'd  rather  tell  ten  lies  than  say  a  word 
Of  truth ; — such  truths  are  treason  ;  they  betray 

Their  country  ;  and  as  traitors  are  abhorr'd 
Wlio  name  the  French  in  English,  save  to  show 
How  Peace  should  make  John  Bull  the  Frenchman's 
foe' 

XXIII. 

The  Russians,  having  built  two  batteries  on 
An  isle  near  Ismail,  had  two  ends  in  view ; 

The  first  was  to  bombard  it,  and  knock  down 
The  public  buildings  and  the  private  too, 


186 


DON    JUAN. 


No  matter  what  poor  souls  might  be  undone. 
The  city's  shape  suggested  this,  'tis  true; 
Form'd  like  an  amphitheatre,  each  dwelling 
Presented  a  fine  mark  to  throw  a  shell  in.(i) 


XXIV. 

The  second  object  was  to  profit  by 

The  moment  of  the  general  consternation, 

To  attack  the  Turk's  flotilla,  which  lay  nigh 
Extremely  tranquil,  anchor'd  at  its  station  : 

But  a  third  motive  was  as  probably 
To  frighten  them  into  capitulation  ;  (2) 

A  phantasy  which  sometimes  seizes  warriors. 

Unless  they  are  game  as  bull-dogs  and  fox-terriers. 


XXV. 

A  habit  rather  blamable,  which  is 

That  of  despising  those  we  combat  with. 

Common  in  many  cases,  was  in  this 

The  cause  p)  of  killing  Tchitchitzkoff  and  Smith ; 


(1)  ["  On  s'^tait  propose  deux  buts  ^galement  avantageux,  par  la  con- 
Btruction  de  deux  batteries  sur  Hie  qui  avoisine  Ismael :  le  premier,  de 
bombarder  la  place,  d'en  abattre  les  principaux  edifices  avec  du  canon  de 
quarante-huit,  effet  d'autant  plus  probable,  que  la  ville  ^tant  batie  en  am- 
phitheatre, presque  aucun  coup  ne  serait  perdu,"  —  Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle 
Rusiie,  p.  203.] 

(2)  ["  Le  second  objet  etait  de  profiter  de  ce  moment  d'alarme  pour 
que  la  flotille,  agissant  en  meme  temps,  pilt  d^truire  celle  des  Turcs.  Un 
troisi^me  motif,  et  vraisemblement  le  plus  plausible,  etait  de  jeter  la  con- 
sternation  parmi  les  Turcs,  et  de  les  engager  k  capituler."  —  Ibid.  p.  203.] 

(3)  ["Un  habitude  blamable,  celle  de  mepriser  son  ennemi,  fut  la 
cause."  — /Wrf.  p.  203.] 


s         .  ,  DON   JUAN.  187 

One  of  the  valorous  "  Smiths  "  whom  we  shall  miss 

Out  of  those  nineteen  who  late  rhymed  to  "  pith  ;'* 

But  'tis  a  name  so  spread  o'er  "  Sir"  and  "  Madam," 

That  one  would  think  the  first  who  bore  it  "  Adam." 

XXVI. 

The  Russian  batteries  were  incomplete, 

Because  they  were  constructed' in  a.  hurry  ;(^) 

Thus  the  same  cause  which  makes  a  verse  want  feet. 
And  throws  a  cloud  o'er  Longman  and  John  Murray, 

When  the  sale  of  new  books  is  not  so  fleet 
As  they  who  print  them  think  is  necessary, 

May  likewise  put  off  for  a  time  what  story 

Sometimes  calls  "  murder,"  and  at  others  "  glory." 

XXVII. 

WTiether  it  was  their  engineer's  stupidity. 

Their  haste,  or  waste,  I  neither  know  nor  care, 

Or  some  contractor's  personal  cupidity. 
Saving  his  soul  by  cheating  in  the  ware 

Of  homicide,  but  there  was  no  solidity 
In  the  new  batteries  erected  there  ;(^) 

They  either  miss'd,  or  they  were  never  miss'd, 

And  added  greatly  to  the  missing  list. 

XXVIII. 

A  sad  miscalculation  about  distance 
Made  all  their  naval  matters  incorrect ; 

Three  fireships  lost  their  amiable  existence 
Before  they  reach'd  a  spot  to  take  effect : 


(1)  [.  .  .  '^  du  dt Taut  de  perfection  dans  la  construction  de»  batteries ; 
OB  vouUtt  a«ir  promptement,  et  on  n^gligea  dc  donner  aux  ouvraget  H 
•etUili  qu'ila  cxigaicnt."—  Ilitt.  de  la  N.  R.  p.  203.] 


188  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  VII, 

The  match  was  lit  too  soon,  and  no  assistance 

Could  remedy  this  lubberly  defect ; 
They  blew  up  in  the  middle  of  the  river,   [ever.(^) 
While,  though  't  was  dawn,  the  Turks  slept  fast  as 

XXIX. 

At  seven  they  rose,  however,  and  surveyed 
The  Russ  flotilla  getting  under  way ; 

'Twas  nine,  when  still  advancing  undismay'd, 
Within  a  cable's  length  their  vessels  lay 

Ofl"  Ismail,  and  commenced  a  cannonade. 
Which  was  return'd  with  interest,  I  may  say. 

And  by  a  fire  of  musketry  and  grape. 

And  shells  and  shot  of  every  size  and  shape.  (2) 

XXX. 

For  six  hours  bore  they  without  intermission 
The  Turkish  fire,  and  aided  by  their  own 

Land  batteries,  work'd  their  guns  with  great  precision : 
At  length  they  found  mere  cannonade  alone 

By  no  means  would  produce  the  town's  submission. 
And  made  a  signal  to  retreat  at  one. 

One  bark  blew  up,  a  second  near  the  works 

Running  aground,  was  taken  by  the  Turks.  (^) 

(1)  ["  On  calcula  mal  la  distance;  la  meme  esprit  fit  manquer  I'efFet 
de  trois  brtllots ;  on  se  pressa  d'allumer  la  meche,  ils  br(ilferent  au  milieu 
du  fleuve,  et,  quoiqu'il  fCit  six  heures  du  matin,  les  Turcs,  encore  couches, 
n'en  prirent  aucun  ombrage.  —  Hist,  de  la  N.  R.  p.  203.] 

(2)  ["  1"  Dec.  1790.  La  flotille  Russe  s'avan(;a  vers  les  sept  heures ; 
U  en  etait  neuf  lorsqu'elle  se  trouva  k  cinquante  toises  de  la  ville  d'Ismael : 
die  souffirit,  avec  une  Constance  calme,  un  feu  de  mitraille  et  de  mous- 
queterie  .  .  ."  —  Ibid.  p.  204.] 

(3)  [ .  •  -  "  prfes  de  six  heures :  les  batteries  de  terre  secondaient  la 
flotille;  mais  on  reconnOt  alors  que  les  canonnades  ne  sufRsaient  pas 
pour  r^duire  la  place,  on  fit  la  retraite  k  une  heure.  Un  lanQon  sauta 
pendant  Taction,  un  autre  d^riva  par  la  force  du  courant,  et  fut  pris  par 
les  Turcs. "  —  /Wrf.  p.  204.] 


CANTO  VII. 


DON    JUAN.  189 


XXXI. 

The  Moslem,  too,  had  lost  both  ships  and  men ; 

But  when  they  saw  the  enemy  retire. 
Their  Delhis{')  mann'd  some  boats,  and  sail'd  again, 

And  gaird  the  Russians  with  a  heavy  fire, 
And  tried  to  make  a  landing  on  the  main ; 

But  here  the  effect  fell  short  of  their  desire  : 
Count  Damas  drove  them  back  into  the  water 
Pell-mell,  and  with  a  whole  gazette  of  slaughter.  (2) 

XXXII. 

•  If"  (says  the  historian  here)  "  I  could  report 
All  that  the  Russians  did  upon  this  day, 

I  think  that  several  volumes  would  fall  short. 
And  I  should  still  have  many  things  to  say;" (3) 

And  so  he  says  no  more — but  pays  his  court 
To  some  distinguish'd  strangers  in  that  fray ; 

The  Prince  de  Ligne,  and  Langeron,  and  Damas, 

Names  great  as  any  that  the  roll  of  Fame  has.  (^) 


(1)  "  Properly  madmen  :  a  species  of  troops  who,  in  the  Turkish  army, 
act  at  the  forlorn  hope."  —  D'Herbelot.] 

(2)  "  Le«  Turcs  perdirent  beaucoup  de  monde  et  plusieurs  vaisseaux  :  h 
peine  la  retraite  de«  Riuses  fut-elle  remarquee,  que  les  plus  braves  d'entre 
let  ennemu  le  jetirent  dans  de  petites  barques  et  essayfercnt  une  descente : 
le  Comte  de  Damas  les  mit  en  fuite,  et  leur  tua  plusieurs  officiers  ct  grand 
nombre  de  •oldaU."  —  Hist,  de  la  N.  R.  p.  204.] 

(3)  ["  On  ne  tarirait  paa  si  on  voulait  rapporter  tout  ce  que  les  Russes 
firent  dc  rofoiorable  dans  cette  joum^e  ;  pour  center  les  hauts  fait« 
d'armes,  pour  particulariacr  toutet  les  actions  d'eclat,  il  faudrait  composer 
dea  volume*."  —  Ibid.  p.  204.] 

(4  *•  Panni  lea  toaogen,  le  Prince  de  Ligne  se  distingua  de  manifere  d 
m^riu<r  rettime  fte^rale ;  devrais  chevaliers  Frangais,  attires  par  I'amour 
de  la  gkrire,  ae  nM»trirent  digncs  d'elle :  les  plus  marquans  etaient  le 
jcune  Due  <!•  Ricbdieu,  les  Comtes  de  Langeron  et  de  Damas."  — /6i(f. 


190  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  vii. 

XXXIII. 

This  being  the  case,  may  show  us  what  Fame  is  : 
For  out  of  these  three  " preux  Chevaliers"  how 

Many  of  common  readers  give  a  guess 

That  such  existed  ?  (and  they  may  live  now 

For  aught  we  know.)     Renown 's  all  hit  or  miss  ; 
There 's  fortune  even  in  fame,  we  must  allow. 

'Tis  true,  the  Memoirs  (^)  of  the  Prince  de  Ligne(2) 

Have  half  withdrawn  from  him  oblivion's  screen. 

XXXIV. 

But  here  are  men  who  fought  in  gallant  actions 

As  gallantly  as  ever  heroes  fought. 
But  buried  in  the  heap  of  such  transactions 

Their  names  are  rarely  found,  nor  often  sought. 
Thus  even  good  fame  may  suffer  sad  contractions, 

And  is  extinguish'd  sooner  than  she  ought : 
Of  all  our  modern  battles,  I  will  bet 
You  can't  repeat  nine  names  from  each  Gazette. 

XXXV. 

In  short,  this  last  attack,  though  rich  in  glory, 
Show'd  that  somewhere,  somehow,  there  was  a  fault, 

And  Admiral  Ribas  (known  in  Russian  story)    , 
Most  strongly  recommended  an  assault ; 

(1)  ["  Letters  and  Reflections  of  the  Austrian  Field-Marshal,  Charles 
Joseph,  Prince  de  Lignfe,  edited  by  the  Baroness  de  Stael-Holstein,"  2  vols. 
1809.] 

(2)  [Charles  Joseph,  Comte  de  Ligne,  was  born  at  Brussels.  Being,  in 
1782,  sent  by  the  Emperor  Joseph  II.  on  a  mission  to  Catherine,  he  became 
a  great  favourite  with  her.  She  appointed  him  field-marshal,  and  gave  him 
an  estate  in  the  Crimea.  In  1788,  he  v,as  sent  to  assist  Potemkin  at  the 
siege  of  Oczakoflf.    He  died  in  1814.] 


CANTO  vn.  DON   JUAN.  191 

In  which  he  was  opposed  by  young  and  hoary,  (^) 

Which  made  a  long  debate ;  but  I  must  halt, 
For  if  I  wrote  down  every  warrior's  speech, 
I  doubt  few  readers  e'er  would  mount  the  breach. 

XXXVI. 

There  was  a  man,  if  that  he  was  a  man. 

Not  tliat  his  manhood  could  be  call'd  in  question, 

For  had  he  not  been  Hercules,  his  span 
Had  been  as  short  in  youth  as  indigestion 

Made  his  last  illness,  when,  all  worn  and  wan. 
He  died  beneath  a  tree,  as  much  unblest  on 

The  soil  of  the  green  province  he  had  wasted. 

As  e'er  was  locust  on  the  land  it  blasted. 

XXXVII. 

This  was  Potemkin  (^) — a  great  thing  in  days 
When  homicide  and  harlotry  made  great; 

If  stars  and  titles  could  entail  long  praise, 
His  glory  might  half  equal  his  estate. 


1  "  L'Amiral  Ribas  declara,  en  ple'm  conseil,  que  ce  n'etait  qu'en 
liuiinant  I'assaut  qu'on  obtiendrait  la  place  :  cet  avis  parut  hardi ;  on  lui 
oppon  mille  raisoni,  auxquelles  il  r^pondit  par  de  meilleures."  — ^ji<. 
Ar  la  X.  R.  p.  205.] 

(2)  [The  following  character  of  Prince  Potemkin  is  from  the  pen  of 
Count  S^gur,  who  lived  in  habits  of  intimacy  with  him  :  —  "  In  his  person 
were  collected  the  most  opposite  defects  and  advantages  of  every  kind.  He 
WM  avaricious  and  ostentatious,  despotic  and  obliging,  politic  and  confiding, 
loentioui  and  superstitious,  bold  and  timid,  ambitious  and  indiscreet ; 
larish  of  his  bounties  to  his  relations,  his  mistresses,  and  his  favourites, 
yet  flnequently  paying  neither  his  household  nor  his  creditors.  His  conse- 
qoenoe  alwayi  depended  on  a  woman,  and  he  was  always  unfaithful  to  her. 
Nothing  could  equal  the  activity  of  his  mind,  nor  the  indolence  of  his  body. 
No  dangen  could  appal  his  courage ;  no  difficulties  force  him  to  abandon 
bii  project*.    But  the  succeu  of  an  enterprise  always  brought  on  disgust 


192  DON    JUAN.  CAN! 

This  fellow,  being  six  foot  high,  could  raise 

A  kind  of  phantasy  proportionate 
In  the  then  sovereign  of  the  Russian  people. 
Who  measured  men  as  you  would  do  a  steeple. 


XXXVIII. 

While  things  were  in  abeyance,  Ribas  sent 
A  courier  to  the  prince,  and  he  succeeded 

In  ordering  matters  after  his  own  bent ; 
I  cannot  tell  the  way  in  which  he  pleaded, 

But  shortly  he  had  cause  to  be  content. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  batteries  proceeded, 

And  fourscore  cannon  on  the  Danube's  border 

Were  briskly  fired  and  answer'd  in  due  order. (^) 


Every  thing  with  him  was  desultory ;  business,  pleasure,  temper,  courage 
His  presence  was  a  restraint  on  every  company.  He  was  morose  to  all  that 
stood  in  awe  of  him,  and  caressed  all  such  as  accosted  him  with  familiarity. 
None  had  read  less  than  he;  few  people  were  better  informed.  One  while 
he  formed  the  project  of  becoming  Duke  of  Courland ;  at  another  be 
thought  of  bestowing  on  himself  the  crown  of  Poland.  He  frequently 
gave  intimation  of  an  intention  to  make  himself  a  bishop,  or  even  a  simple 
monk.  He  built  a  superb  palace,  and  wanted  to  fell  it  before  it  was  finished. 
In  his  youth  he  had  pleased  Catherine  by  the  ardour  of  his  passion,  by  his 
valour,  and  by  his  masculine  beauty.  Become  the  rival  of  Orloff,  he  per- 
formed for  his  sovereign  whatever  the  most  romantic  passion  could  inspire. 
He  put  out  an  eye,  to  free  it  from  a  blemish  which  diminished  his  beauty. 
Banished  by  his  rival,  he  ran  to  meet  death  in  battle,  and  returned  with 
glory.    He  died  in  1791,  at  the  age  of  fifty-two."] 

CI)  ["  Ce  projet,  remis  k  un  autre  jour,  ^prouva  encore  les  plus  grandes 
difficult^s ;  le  courage  de  Ribas  les  surmonta  :  il  ne  s'agissait  que  de  de- 
terminer le  Prince  Potiemkin  ;  il  y  reussit  Tandis  qu'il  se  demenait  pour 
I'ex^cution  de  projet  agre^,  on  construisait  de  nouvelles  liatteries ;  on 
comptait,  le  12  Decembre,  quatre-vingts  pidces  de  canon  sur  le  bord  du 
Danube,  et  cette  journee  se  passa  en  vives  canonnades.  —  Histoirc  de  la 
Kouvelle  Rtissie,  torn.  ii.  p.  205.] 


CANTO  VII. 


DON   JUAN.  193 


XXXIX. 

But  on  the  thirteenth,  when  already  part 

Of  the  troops  were  embark'd,  the  siege  to  raise, 

A  courier  on  the  spur  inspired  new  heart 
Into  all  panters  for  newspaper  praise, 

As  well  as  dilettanti  in  war's  art, 

By  his  despatches  couch'd  in  pithy  phrase  ; 

Announcing  the  appointment  of  that  lover  of 

Battles  to  the  command,  Field-Marshal  SouvarofF.(') 

XL. 

The  letter  of  the  prince  to  the  same  marshal 
Was  worthy  of  a  Spartan,  had  the  cause 

Been  one  to  which  a  good  heart  could  be  partial— 
Defence  of  freedom,  country,  or  of  laws ; 

But  as  it  was  mere  lust  of  power  to  o'er-arch  all 
With  its  proud  brow,  it  merits  slight  applause, 

Save  for  its  style,  which  said,  all  in  a  trice, 

"  You  will  take  Ismail  at  whatever  price."  (2) 

XLI. 

**  Let  there  be  light !  said  God,  and  there  was  light  I" 
"  Let  there  be  blood !"  says  m.an,  and  there's  a  sea ! 

The  fiat  of  this  spoil'd  child  of  the  Night 
(For  Day  ne'er  saw  his  merits)  could  decree 


(1)  ["  MaU  le  13*,  une  partie  des  troupes  ^tait  embarquee  ;  on  allait 
lerer  le  iihgc :  un  courrier  arrive ;  ce  courrier  annonce,  de  la  part  du 
Prince,  que  le  Marechal  Souwarow  va  prendre  le  comniandement  de? 
forces  n'unics  tous  Ismael."  —  Ilitt.  de  la  X.  R.  p.  205.] 

(2)  ["  I^  Icttre  du  Prince  Potiemkin  a  Souwarow  est  trfeg-courte ;  olle 
peint  le  caracttee  de  ces  deux  i^ersonnages.  I^  voici  dans  toute  >a  teneur : 
•  Voui  prendm  Itmait  u  qtul  prtx  que  ce  toit  / '"  —  Ibid.  p.  205.] 

VOL.  XVI.  O 


194  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  VII 

More  evil  in  an  hour,  than  thirty  bright 

Summers  could  renovate,  though  they  should  be 
Lovely  as  those  which  ripen'd  Eden's  fruit ; 
For  war  cuts  up  not  only  branch,  but  root. 


XLII. 

Our  friends  the  Turks,  who  with  loud  "  Allahs"  now 
Began  to  signalise  the  Russ  retreat,  (^) 

Were  damnably  mistaken ;  £ew  are  slow 
In  thinking  that  their  enemy  is  beat, 

(Or  beaten,  \^  you  insist  on  grammar,  though 
I  never  think  about  it  in  a  heat,) 

But  here  I  say  the  Turks  were  much  mistaken, 

"Who  hating  hogs,  yet  wish'd  to  save  their  bacon. 


XLIII. 

For,  on  the  sixteenth,  at  full  gallop,  drew 

In  sight  two  horsemen,  who  were  deem'd  Cossacques 

For  some  time,  till  they  came  in  nearer  view. 
They  had  but  little  baggage  at  their  backs, 

For  there  were  but  three  shirts  between  the  two ; 
But  on  they  rode  upon  two  Ukraine  hacks, 

Till,  in  approaching,  were  at  length  descried 

In  this  plain  pair,  Suwarrow  and  his  guide.  (2) 


(1)  f"  Le  courrier  est  temoin  des  cris  de  joie  (Allahs)  du  Turc,  qui  se 
croyait  a  la  fin  de  ses  maux."  —  Hist,  de  la  N.  R.  p.  205.] 

(2)  ["  Le  16  ,  on  voit  venir  de  loin  deux  hommes  courant  k  toute  bride  : 
on  les  prit  pour  des  Kosaks ;  I'un  etait  Souwarow,  et  I'autre  son  guide, 
portant  un  paquet  gros  comme  le  poing,  et  renfermant  le  bagage  du 
general."  — /fifd.  p.  205.] 


CANTO  VII.  DON   JUAN.  195 

XLIV. 

"  Great  joy  to  London  now !"  says  some  great  fool, 
When  London  had  a  grand  illumination. 

Which  to  that  bottle-conjuror,  John  Bull, 
Is  of  all  dreams  the  first  hallucination ; 

So  that  the  streets  of  colour'd  lamps  are  full, 
That  Sage  (^said  John)  surrenders  at  discretion 

His  purse,  his  soul,  his  sense,  and  even  his  nonsense, 

To  gratify,  like  a  huge  moth,  this  one  sense. 


XLV. 

'Tis  strange  that  he  should  farther  "  damn  his  eyes,' 
For  they  are  damn'd ;  that  once  all-famous  oath 

Is  to  the  devil  now  no  farther  prize, 

Since  John  has  lately  lost  the  use  of  both. 

Debt  he  calls  wealth,  and  taxes  Paradise ; 

And  Famine,  with  her  gaunt  and  bony  growth, 

Which  stare  him  in  the  face,  he  won't  examine, 

Or  swears  that  Ceres  hath  begotten  Famine. 


XLVI. 

But  to  the  tale ;  —  great  joy  unto  the  camp ! 

To  Russian,  Tartar,  English,  French,  Cossacque, 
O'er  whom  Suwarrow  shone  like  a  gas  lamp. 

Presaging  a  most  luminous  attack ; 
Or  like  a  wisp  along  the  marsh  so  damp. 

Which  leads  beholders  on  a  boggy  walk. 
He  flitted  to  and  fro  a  dancing  light. 
Which  all  who  saw  it  followed,  wrong  or  right. 
o  2 


196  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  VII. 

XL  VII. 

But  certes  matters  took  a  different  face ; 

There  was  enthusiasm  and  much  applause, 
The  fleet  and  camp  saluted  with  great  grace, 

And  all  presaged  good  fortune  to  their  cause. 
Within  a  cannon-shot  length  of  the  place 

They  drew,  constructed  ladders,  repair'd  flaws 
In  former  works,  made  new,  prepared  fascines,  Q) 
And  all  kinds  of  benevolent  machines. 

XLVIII. 

'Tis  thus  the  spirit  of  a  single  mind 

Makes  that  of  multitudes  take  one  direction. 

As  roll  the  waters  to  the  breathing  wind. 

Or  roams  the  herd  beneath  the  bull's  protection ; 

Or  as  a  little  dog  will  lead  the  blind. 

Or  a  bell-wether  form  the  flock's  connection 

By  tinkling  sounds^  when  they  go  forth  to  victual ; 

Such  is  the  sway  of  your  great  men  o'er  little. 

XLIX. 

The  whole  camp  rung  with  joy;  you  would  have 
thought 

That  they  were  going  to  a  marriage  feast 
(This  metaphor^  I  think,  holds  good  as  aught. 

Since  there  is  discord  after  both  at  least) : 


(1)  Z"  Les  succfes  multiplies  de  Souwarow,  sa  bravoure  k  toute  6preuve, 
Ja  confidence  que  le  soldat  avait  en  lui,  produisirent  un  enthousiasme 
g^ndral :  une  salve  des  batteries  du  camp  et  de  la  flotte  c^lebrfirent  son 
arrivee,  et  I'espoir  du  succfes  ranima  les  esprits.  Les  choses  prennent  le 
meme  jour  une  autre  tournure;  le  camp  se  rapproche  et  s'^tablit  k  la 
portee  du  canon  de  la  place ;  on  prepare  des  fascines  on  construit  des 
€chelles,  on  ^tablit  des  batteries  nouvelles."  —  ///s<.  de  la  N.  R.  p.  206.] 


CANTO   VII. 


DON   JUAN.  197 


There  was  not  now  a  luggage  boy  but  sought 

Danger  and  spoil  with  ardour  much  increased  ;(^) 
And  why?  because  a  little  —  odd — old  man, 
Stript  to  his  shirt,  was  come  to  lead  the  van. 

L. 

But  so  it  was ;  and  every  preparation 
Was  made  with  all  alacrity :  the  first 

Detachment  of  three  columns  took  its  station, 
And  waited  but  the  signal's  voice  to  burst 

Upon  the  foe:  the  second's  ordination 
Was  also  in  three  columns,  with  a  thirst 

For  glory  gaping  o'er  a  sea  of  slaughter : 

The  third,  in  columns  two,  attack'd  by  water.  (2) 

LI. 

New  batteries  were  erected,  and  was  held 
A  general  council,  in  which  unanimity, 

That  stranger  to  most  councils,  here  prevaird,(3) 
As  sometimes  happens  in  a  great  extremity ; 

And  every  difficulty  being  dispell'd, 

Glory  began  to  dawn  with  due  sublimity. 

While  SouvarofF,  determined  to  obtain  it, 

Was  teaching  his  recruits  to  use  the  bayonet.  ("*) 

(1)  ["  L'ardeur  de  Souwarow,  son  incroyable  activit(?,  son  m^pris  dcs 
dangers,  sa  pretque  certitude  de  reussir,  son  ime  enfin  s'est  communiquee 
ii  Vaimkc;  U  n'cst  pas  jucqu'au  dernier  goujat  qui  nc  desire  d'obtenir 
I'honneur  de  monter  it  I'assaut"—  Hist,  de  la  N.  li.  p.  206.] 

(2)  [La  premiere  attaque^taitcomposee  de  trois  colonnes— .trois  autrcs 
— ilonne*,  dfrtintw  k  la  Mconde  attaque,  avaient  pour  chefs,  &c.  —  la  troi- 

•;me  attaque  par  era  n'vrolt  que  deux  colonnes."  —  /AtV/.  p.  207. 

(3)  [**  On  cooatniiait  de  nouTellcs  batteries  le  18'.  On  tint  un  conseil  de 
guerre,  on  y  examina  lea  plana  pour  I'asaaut ;  ilt  r^unirent  tous  Ics  souf. 
tnse»."—Ibid.  p.  seal 

(4)  Fact :  Suwaroffdid  thU  in  person. 

o  3 


198  -  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  vir. 

LII. 

It  is  an  actual  fact,  that  he,  commander 
In  chief,  in  proper  person  deign'd  to  drill 

The  awkward  squad,  and  could  afford  to  squander 
His  time,  a  corporal's  duty  to  fulfil ; 

Just  as  you'd  break  a  sucking  salamander 
To  swallow  flame,  and  never  take  it  ill : 

He  show'd  them  how  to  mount  a  ladder  (which 

Was  not  like  Jacob's)  or  to  cross  a  ditch. (i) 

Liir. 
Also  he  dress'd  up,  for  the  nonce,  fascines 

Like  men  with  turbans,  scimitars,  and  dirks, 
And  made  them  charge  with  bayonet  these  machines, 

By  way  of  lesson  against  actual  Turks  ;  (2) 
And  when  well  practised  in  these  mimic  scenes. 

He  judged  them  proper  to  assail  the  works ; 
At  which  your  wise  men  sneer'd  in  phrases  witty : 
He  made  no  answer ;  but  he  took  the  city. 

LIV. 

Most  things  were  in  this  posture  on  the  eve 
Of  the  assault,  and  all  the  camp  was  in 

A  stern  repose  ;  which  you  would  scarce  conceive ; 
Yet  men  resolved  to  dash  through  thick  and  thin 

Are  very  silent  when  they  once  believe 
That  all  is  settled: — there  was  little  din, 

For  some  were  thinking  of  their  home  and  friends, 

And  others  of  themselves  and  latter  ends. 

(1)  ["  Le  19=  ct  le  20%  Souwarow  exercpa  les  soldats  ;  il  leur  montra  com- 
ment il  fallait  s'y  prendre  pour  escalader;  il  enseigna  aux  recrues  la 
maniere  de  donncr  !e  coup  de  baionette."  —  J/^m/.  de  la  X.  B.  p.  208.] 

(2)  ["  Pour  ces  exercices  d'un  nouveau  genre,  il  se  servit  de  fascines 
disposees  de  manifere  h.  rcpr^senter  un  Turc."  — /6id.  p.  208.] 


CANTO  VII.  DON   JUAN.  199 

LV. 

Suwarrow  chiefly  was  on  the  alert, 

Surveying,  drilling,  ordering,  jesting,  pondering; 
For  the  man  was,  we  safely  may  assert, 

A  thing  to  wonder  at  beyond  most  wondering ; 
Hero,  buffoon,  half-demon,  and  half-dirt, 

Praying,  instructing,  desolating,  plundering ; 
Now  Mars,  now  Momus ;  and  when  bent  to  storm 
A  fortress,  Harlequin  in  uniform. 


LIV. 

The  day  before  the  assault,  while  upon  drill — 
For  this  great  conqueror  play'd  the  corporal — 

Some  Cossacques,  hovering  like  hawks  round  a  hill, 
Had  met  a  party  towards  the  twilight's  fall. 

One  of  whom  spoke  their  tongue  —  or  well  or  ill, 
'Twas  much  that  he  was  understood  at  all; 

But  whether  from  his  voice,  or  speech,  or  manner. 

They  found  that  he  had  fought  beneath  their  banner. 


LVII. 

Whereon  immediately  at  his  request 

They  brought  him  and  his  comrades  to  head- 
quarters ; 
Their  dress  was  Moslem,  but  you  might  have  guess'd 

That  these  were  merely  masquerading  Tartars, 
And  that  beneath  each  Turkish-fashion'd  vest 

Lurk'd  Christianity ;  which  sometimes  barters 
Her  inward  grace  for  outward  show,  and  makes 
It  difficult  to  shun  some  strange  mistakes. 
o  4 


200 


DON   JUAN. 


LVIII. 

Suwarrow,  who  was  standing  in  his  shirt 
Before  a  company  of  Cal mucks,  drilling, 

Exclaiming,  fooling,  swearing  at  the  inert, 
And  lecturing  on  the  noble  art  of  killing,— 

For  deeming  human  clay  but  common  dirt, 
This  great  philosopher  was  thus  instilling 

His  maxims,  which  to  martial  comprehension 

Proved  death  in  battle  equal  to  a  pension ; — 


LIX. 

Suwarrow,  when  he  saw  this  company  [cast 

Of  Cossacques  and  their  prey,  turn'd  round  and 

Upon  them  his  slow  brow  and  piercing  eye : —  [last, 
"Whence  come  ye?" — "From  Constantinople 

Captives  just  now  escaped,"  was  the  reply,  [pass'd 
"  What  are  ye?" — "  Wliat  you  see  us."    Briefly 

This  dialogue  ;  for  he  who  answer' d  knew 

To  whom  he  spoke,  and  made  his  words  but  few. 


LX. 

"  Your  names?" — "  Mine's  Johnson,  and  my  com- 
rade 's  Juan ; 

The  other  two  are  women,  and  the  third 
Is  neither  man  nor  woman."     The  chief  threw  on 

The  party  a  slight  glance,  then  said,  "  I  have  heard 
Your  name  before,  the  second  is  a  new  one : 

To  bring  the  other  three  here  was  absurd : 
But  let  that  pass : — I  think  I  have  heard  your  name 
In  the  Nikolaiew  regiment?" — "  The  same." 


CANTO  VII. 


DON   JUAN.  201 


LXI. 

«  You  served  at  Widdin  ?"  — «  Yes."  — «  You  led 
the  attack?"  [know." 

"I   did."— "  What   next?"— "  I   really  hardly 
"  You  were  the  first  i'  the  breach?" — "  I  was  not  slack 

At  least  to  follow  those  who  might  be  so." 
"  WTiat  follow'd?" — "  A  shot  laid  me  on  my  back, 

And  I  became  a  prisoner  to  the  foe." 
"  You  shall  have  vengeance,  for  the  town  surromided 
Is  twice  as  strong  as  that  where  you  were  wounded, 

LXII. 

"  Where  will  you  serve?" — "  Where'er  you  please." 
— "I  know 

You  like  to  be  the  hope  of  the  forlorn, 
And  doubtless  would  be  foremost  on  the  foe 

After  the  hardships  you've  already  borne. 
And  this  young  fellow  —  say  what  can  he  do? 

He  with  the  beardless  chin  and  garments  torn  ? " 
''  WTiy,  general,  if  he  hath  no  greater  fault 
In  war  than  love,  he  had  better  lead  the  assault." 

LXIII. 

"  He  shall  if  that  he  dare."     Here  Juan  bow'd 
Low  as  the  compliment  deserved.     Suwarrow 

Continued:  «  Your  old  regiment's  allow' d. 
By  special  providence,  to  lead  to-morrow. 

Or  it  may  be  to-night,  the  assault :  I  have  vow'd 
To  several  saints,  that  shortly  plough  or  harrow 

Shall  pass  o'er  what  was  Ismail,  and  its  tusk 

Be  unimpeded  by  the  proudest  mosque. 


202  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  vir. 

LXIV. 

"  So  now,  my  lads,  for  glory  ! "  —  Here  he  turn'd 
And  drill'd  away  in  the  most  classic  Russian, 

Until  each  high,  heroic  bosom  burn'd 

For  cash  and  conquest,  as  if  from  a  cushion 

A  preacher  had  held  forth  (who  nobly  spurn'd     [on 
All  earthly  goods  save  tithes)  and  bade  them  push 

To  slay  the  Pagans  who  resisted,  battering 

The  armies  of  the  Christian  Empress  Catherine. 


LXV, 

Johnson,  who  knew  by  this  long  colloquy 
Himself  a  favourite,  ventured  to  address 

Suwarrow,  though  engaged  with  accents  high 
In  his  resumed  amusement.     "  I  confess 

My  debt  in  being  thus  allow'd  to  die 

Among  the  foremost;  but  if  you'd  express 

Explicitly  our  several  posts,  my  friend 

And  self  would  know  what  duty  to  attend." 


LXVI. 

"  Right !  I  was  busy,  and  forgot.     Why,  you 
Will  join  your  former  regiment,  which  should  be 

Now  under  arms.     Ho  !  KatskofF,  take  him  to  — 
(Here  he  call'd  up  a  PoHsh  orderly) 

His  post,  I  mean  the  regiment  Nikolaiew: 
The  stranger  stripling  may  remain  with  me ; 

He's  a  fine  boy.     The  women  may  be  sent 

To  the  other  baggage,  or  to  the  sick  tent." 


CANTO  VII.  DON   JUAN.  SOS 

LXVII. 

But  here  a  sort  of  scene  began  to  ensue : 

The  ladies, — who  by  no  means  had  been  bred 

To  be  disposed  of  in  a  way  so  new, 
Although  their  haram  education  led 

Doubtless  to  that  of  doctrines  the  most  true, 
Passive  obedience,  —  now  raised  up  the  head. 

With  flashing  eyes  and  starting  tears,  and  flung 

Their  arms,  as  hens  their  wings  about  their  young, 


LXVIII. 

O'er  the  promoted  couple  of  brave  men 

Who  were  thus  honour'd  by  the  greatest  chief 

That  ever  peopled  hell  with  heroes  slain. 
Or  plunged  a  province  or  a  realm  in  grief. 

Oh,  foolish  mortals  !     Always  taught  in  vain  ! 
Oh,  glorious  laurel !  since  for  one  sole  leaf 

Of  thine  imaginary  deathless  tree. 

Of  blood  and  tears  must  flow  the  unebbing  sea. 


LXIX. 

Suwarrow,  who  had  small  regard  for  tears, 
And  not  much  sympathy  for  blood,  surveyed 

The  women  with  their  hair  about  their  ears 
And  natural  agonies,  with  a  slight  shade 

Of  feeling:  for  however  habit  sears  [trade 

Men's  hearts  against  whole  millions,  when  their 

Is  butchery,  sometimes  a  single  sorrow 

Will  touch  even  heroes — and  such  was  Suwarrow. 


204>  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  vn. 


LXX. 

He  said^ — and  in  the  kindest  Calmuck  tone, — 
"  Why,  Johnson,  what  the  devil  do  you  mean 

By  bringing  women  here  ?     They  shall  be  shown 
All  the  attention  possible,  and  seen 

In  safety  to  the  waggons,  where  alone 

In  fact  they  can  be  safe.    You  should  have  been 

Aware  this  kind  of  baggage  never  thrives : 

Save  wed  a  year,  I  hate  recruits  with  wives." 


LXXI. 

"  May  it  please  your  excellency, "  thus  replied 
Our  British  friend,  "  these  are  the  wives  of  others. 

And  not  our  own.     I  am  too  qualified 
By  service  with  my  military  brothers 

To  break  the  rules  by  bringing  one's  own  bride 
Into  a  camp :  I  know  that  nought  so  bothers 

The  hearts  of  the  heroic  on  a  charge, 

As  leaving  a  small  family  at  large. 


LXXII. 

"  But  these  are  but  two  Turkish  ladies,  who 
With  their  attendant  aided  our  escape. 

And  afterwards  accompanied  us  through 
A  thousand  perils  in  this  dubious  shape. 

To  me  this  kind  of  life  is  not  so  new ; 

To  them,  poor  things,  it  is  an  awkward  scrape 

I  therefore,  if  you  wish  me  to  fight  freely, 

Request  that  they  may  both  be  used  genteelly." 


CANTO  vii.  DON   JUAN.  205 

LXXIII. 

Meantime  these  two  poor  girls,  with  swimming  eyes, 
Look'd  on  as  if  in  doubt  if  they  could  trust 

Their  own  protectors ;  nor  was  their  surprise 
Less  than  their  grief  (and  truly  not  less  just) 

To  see  an  old  man,  rather  wild  than  wise 
In  aspect,  plainly  clad,  besmear'd  with  dust, 

Stript  to  his  waistcoat,  and  that  not  too  clean, 

More  fear'd  than  all  the  sultans  ever  seen. 


LXXIV. 

For  every  thing  seem'd  resting  on  his  nod, 

As  they  could  read  in  all  eyes.     Now  to  them, 

WTio  were  accustom'd,  as  a  sort  of  god, 
To  see  the  sultan,  rich  in  many  a  gem, 

Like  an  imperial  peacock  stalk  abroad 
(That  royal  bird,  whose  tail's  a  diadem,) 

With  all  the  pomp  of  power,  it  was  a  doubt 

How  power  could  condescend  to  do  without. 


LXXV. 

John  Johnson,  seeing  their  extreme  dismay, 
Though  little  versed  in  feelings  oriental. 

Suggested  some  slight  comfort  in  his  way : 
Don  Juan,  who  was  much  more  sentimental, 

Swore  they  should  see  him  by  the  dawn  of  day, 
Or  that  the  Russian  army  should  repent  all : 

And,  strange  to  say,  they  found  some  consolation 

In  this — for  females  like  exaggeration. 


206  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  VII. 

LXXVI. 

And  then  with  tears,  and  sighs,  and  some  slight  kisses, 
They  parted  for  the  present — these  to  await, 

According  to  the  artillery's  hits  or  misses. 

What  sages  call  Chance,  Providence,  or  Fate  — 

(Uncertainty  is  one  of  many  blisses, 
A  mortgage  on  Humanity's  estate)  — 

While  their  beloved  friends  began  to  arm. 

To  burn  a  town  which  never  did  them  harm. 


LXXVII. 

Suwarrow, — who  but  saw  things  in  the  gross, 
Being  much  too  gross  to  see  them  in  detail. 

Who  calculated  life  as  so  much  dross. 
And  as  the  wind  a  widow'd  nation's  wail, 

And  cared  as  little  for  his  army's  loss 

(So  that  their  efforts  should  at  length  prevail) 

As  wife  and  friends  did  for  the  boils  of  Job, — 

What  was't  to  him  to  hear  two  women  sob? 


LXXVIII. 

Nothing.  —  The  work  of  glory  still  went  on  ' 

In  preparations  for  a  cannonade 
As  terrible  as  that  of  Ilion, 

If  Homer  had  found  mortars  ready  made ; 
But  now,  instead  of  slaying  Priam's  son, 

We  only  can  but  talk  of  escalade,  [bullets  ; 

Bombs,  drums,  guns,  bastions,  batteries,  bayonets. 
Hard  words,  which  stick  in  the  soft  Muses'  gullets. 


CAKTO  VII.  DON   JUAN.  207 

LXXIX. 

Oh,  thou  eternal  Homer !  who  couldst  charm 
All  ears,  though  long ;  all  ages,  though  so  short, 

By  merely  M'ielding  with  poetic  arm 

Arms  to  which  men  will  never  more  resort, 

Unless  gunpowder  should  be  found  to  harm 
Much  less  than  is  the  hope  of  every  court. 

Which  now  is  leagued  young  Freedom  to  annoy ; 

But  they  will  not  find  Liberty  a  Troy: — 


LXXX. 

Oh,  thou  eternal  Homer !  I  have  now 

To  paint  a  siege,  wherein  more  men  were  slain, 

With  deadlier  engines  and  a  speedier  blow. 
Than  in  thy  Greek  gazette  of  that  campaign ; 

And  yet,  like  all  men  else,  I  must  allow. 
To  vie  with  thee  would  be  about  as  vain 

As  for  a  brook  to  cope  with  ocean's  flood ; 

But  still  we  moderns  equal  you  in  blood ; 


LXXXI. 

If  not  in  poetry,  at  least  in  fact ; 

And  fact  is  truth,  the  grand  desideratum  I 
Of  which,  howe'er  the  Muse  describes  each  act, 

There  should  be  ne'ertheless  a  slight  substratum. 
But  now  the  town  is  going  to  be  attacked ; 

Great  deeds  are  doing — how  shall  I  relate  'em? 
Souls  of  immortal  generals  !  Phcebus  watches 
To  colour  up  his  rays  from  your  despatches. 


208  DON   JUAN,  CANTO  vn. 

LXXXII. 

Oh,  ye  great  bulletins  of  Bonaparte  ! 

Oh,  ye  less  grand  long  lists  of  kill'd  and  wounded  ! 
Shade  of  Leonidas,  who  fought  so  hearty, 

When  my  poor  Greece  was  once,  as  now,  sur- 
rounded ! 
Oh,  Caesar's  Commentaries !  now  impart,  ye 

Shadows  of  glory  !  (lest  I  be  confounded) 
A  portion  of  your  fading  twilight  hues. 
So  beautiful,  so  fleeting,  to  the  Muse. 


LXXXIII. 

When  I  call  "  fading"  martial  immortality, 
I  mean,  that  every  age  and  every  year, 

And  almost  every  day,  in  sad  reality. 
Some  sucking  hero  is  compell'd  to  rear. 

Who,  when  we  come  to  sum  up  the  totality 
Of  deeds  to  human  happiness  most  dear. 

Turns  out  to  be  a  butcher  in  great  business, 

Afflicting  young  folks  with  a  sort  of  dizziness. 


LXXXIV. 

Medals,  rank,  ribands,  lace,  embroidery,  scarlet. 
Are  things  immortal  to  immortal  man, 

As  purple  to  the  Babylonian  harlot : 
An  uniform  to  boys  is  like  a  fan 

To  women ;  there  is  scarce  a  crimson  varlet 
But  deems  himself  the  first  in  Glory's  van. 

But  Glory's  glory;  and  if  you  would  find 

What  that  is — ask  the  pig  who  sees  the  wind! 


.sro%H.  DON   JUAN.  209 

LXXXV. 

At  least  he  feels  it,  and  some  say  he  sees. 
Because  he  runs  before  it  like  a  pig ; 

Or,  if  that  simple  sentence  should  displease, 
Say,  that  he  scuds  before  it  like  a  brig, 

A  schooner,  or — but  it  is  time  to  ease 

This  Canto,  ere  my  Muse  perceives  fatigue. 

The  next  shall  ring  a  peal  to  shake  all  people. 

Like  a  bob-major  from  a  village  steeple. 


LXXXVI. 

Hark !  through  the  silence  of  the  cold,  dull  night, 
The  hum  of  armies  gathering  rank  on  rank  I 

Lo  !  dusky  masses  steal  in  dubious  sight 
Along  the  leaguer'd  wall  and  bristling  bank 

Of  the  arm'd  river,  while  with  straggling  light 
The  stars  peep  through  the  vapours  dim  and  dank, 

Which  curl  in  curious  wreaths: — how  soon  the  smoke 

Of  Hell  shall  pall  them  in  a  deeper  cloak  I 


LXXXVII. 

Here  pause  we  for  the  present  —  as  even  then 
That  awful  pause,  dividing  life  from  death, 

Struck  for  an  instant  on  the  hearts  of  men, 

Thousands  of  whom  were  drawing  their  last  breath  I 

A  moment — and  all  will  be  life  again  I 

The  march  !  the  charge  I  the  shouts  of  either  faith  I 

Hurra  I  and  Allah  !  and  —  one  moment  more — 

The  death-cry  drowning  in  the  battle's  roar. 

VOL.  XVI.  p 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  THE  EIGHTH,  (i) 


: ;  [ThU  Canto  it  almost  entirely  filled  with  the  taking  of  Ismail  by 
•torm.  It  would  be  absurd  to  attempt,  in  prose,  even  a  feeble  outline  of  the 
varied  borron  which  marked  that  celebrated  scene  of  ruthless  and  indis- 
criminate carnage ;  the  noble  writer  has  depicted  them  with  all  that  vivid 
and  appalling  fidelity,  which,  on  such  a  theme,  might  be  expected  from  his 
powerflil  muae;  and,  if  any  thing  can  add  to  the  shuddering  sensation  we 
experience  is  reading  these  terrific  details,  it  is  the  consideration,  that 
poetry,  in  this  Imtancf,  instead  of  dealing  in  fiction,  must  necessarily  relate 
a  tale  that  (alia  abort  of  the  truth.  —  Campbell.] 


p  2 


213 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO    THE   EIGHTH. 


I. 

Oh  blood  and  thunder !  and  oh  blood  and  wounds ! 

Tliese  are  but  vulgar  oaths,  as  you  may  deem, 
Too  gentle  reader !  and  most  shocking  sounds : 

And  so  they  are ;  yet  thus  is  Glory's  dream 
Unriddled,  and  as  my  true  Muse  expounds 

At  present  such  things,  since  they  are  her  theme, 
So  be  they  her  inspirers  I     Call  them  Mars, 
Bellona,  what  you  will — they  mean  but  wars. 

II. 
Ml  was  prepared  —  the  fire,  the  sword,  the  men 

i'o  wield  them  in  their  terrible  array. 
]  lie  army,  like  a  lion  from  his  den, 

March'd  forth  with  nerve  and  sinews  bent  to  slay, — 
A  human  Hydra,  issuing  from  its  fen 

To  breathe  destruction  on  its  winding  way, 
Whose  heads  were  heroes,  which  cut  off  in  vain 
Immediately  in  others  grew  again. 
p  3 


214  DON  JUAN. 


CANTO  VIII. 


III. 

History  can  only  take  things  in  the  gross ; 

But  could  we  know  them  in  detail,  perchance 
In  balancing  the  profit  and  the  loss, 

War's  merit  it  by  no  means  might  enhance, 
To  waste  so  much  gold  for  a  little  dross. 

As  hath  been  done,  mere  conquest  to  advance. 
The  drying  up  a  single  tear  has  more 
Of  honest  fame,  than  shedding  seas  of  gore. 


IV. 

And  why? — because  it  brings  self-approbation; 

Whereas  the  other,  after  all  its  glare. 
Shouts,  bridges,  arches,  pensions  from  a  nation. 

Which  (it  may  be)  has  not  much  left  to  spare, 
A  higher  title,  or  a  loftier  station. 

Though  they  may  make  Corruption  gape  or  stare, 
Yet,  in  the  end,  except  in  Freedom's  battles. 
Are  nothing  but  a  child  of  Murder's  rattles. 


V. 

And  such  they  are — and  such  they  will  be  found: 

Not  so  Leonidas  and  Washington, 
Whose  every  battle-field  is  holy  ground, 

Which  breathes  of  nations  saved,  not  worlds  undone. 
How  sweetly  on  the  ear  such  echoes  sound ! 

While  the  mere  victor's  may  appal  or  stun 
The  servile  and  the  vain,  such  names  will  be 
A  watchword  till  the  future  shall  be  free. 


CAKTO  VUI. 


DON   JUAN.  215 


VI. 

The  night  was  dark,  and  the  thick  mist  allow'd 
Nought  to  be  seen  save  the  artillery's  flame, 

WTiich  arch'd  the  horizon  like  a  fiery  cloud, 

And  in  the  Danube's  waters  shone  the  same — (^) 

A  mirrored  hell !  the  volleying  roar,  and  loud 
Long  booming  of  each  peal  on  peal,  overcame 

The  ear  far  more  than  thunder ;  for  Heaven's  flashes 

Spare,  or  smite  rarely — man's  make  millions  ashes  I 


VII. 

The  column  order'd  on  the  assault  scarce  pass*d 
Beyond  the  Russian  batteries  a  few  toises, 

When  up  the  bristling  Moslem  rose  at  last, 

Answering  the  Christian  thunders  with  like  voices: 

Then  one  vast  fire,  air,  earth,  and  stream  embraced, 
WTiich  rock'd  as  'twere  beneath  the  mighty  noises  ; 

While  the  whole  rampart  blazed  like  Etna,  when 

The  restless  Titan  hiccups  in  his  den.  (2) 


(1)  ["  La  nuit  ^tait  obscure ;  un  brouillard  ^pais  ne  nous  permettait  de 
Attingucr  autre  chose  que  le  feu  de  notre  artillerie,  dont  I'horizon  ^tait 
embrasc  de  tou«  c6tfes :  ce  feu,  partant  du  milieu  du  Danube,  se  r^flfe- 
chtssait  sur  les  eaux,  ct  oflVait  un  coup  d'oeil  tr^singulier."  — ^2«/.  de  la 
liowteUe  Ruatie^  torn.  iii.  p.  20913 

{T)  ["  *A  peine  cuton  parcouru  I'cspace  de  quelques  toises  au-deli  des 
batterie«,  que  Ics  Turcs,  qui  n'avaient  point  tirfe  i)endant  toute  la  nuit, 
•'apptTQCvant  de  no*  mouTcraens,  commenctrent  de  lour  cAtfe  un  feu 
trfe»-Tif,  qui  nnbran  le  rwte  de  I'horizon :  mais  ce  fut  bien  autre  chose 
lorsque,  avances  dAvantage,  le  feu  de  la  mousqueterie  commen^a  dans 
toutc  I't'tenduc  du  rempart  que  nous  appercevions.  Ce  fut  alors  que  la 
place  parut  k  noa  yeux  comme  un  volcan  dont  le  feu  sortait  de  toutes  par- 
tief."-/Witp.«09.] 

P   4 


216  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  vm. 

VIII. 

And  one  enormous  shout  of  "  Allah  !"(i)  rose 
In  the  same  moment,  loud  as  even  the  roar 

Of  war's  most  mortal  engines,  to  their  foes 
Hurling  defiance  :  city,  stream,  and  shore 

Resounded  "  Allah ! "  and  the  clouds  which  close 
With  thick'ning  canopy  the  conflict  o'er, 

Vibrate  to  the  Eternal  name.     Hark !  through 

All  sounds  it  pierceth  "  Allah  !  Allah !  Hu  !"  (2) 

IX. 

Tlie  columns  were  in  movement  one  and  all, 
But  of  the  portion  which  attack'd  by  water. 

Thicker  than  leaves  the  lives  began  to  fal],(^) 
Though  led  by  Arseniew,  that  great  son  of  slaughter, 

As  brave  as  ever  faced  both  bomb  and  ball. 

"  Carnage  "  (so  Wordsworth  tells  you)  "  is  God's 
daughter  :"(■*) 

If  he  speak  truth,  she  is  Christ's  sister,  and 

Just  now  behaved  as  in  the  Holy  Land. 

(1)  ["  Un  cri  universel  A' Allah  !  qui  se  rep^tait  tout  autour  de  la  ville, 
vint  encore  rendre  plus  extraordinaire  cet  instant,  dont  il  est  impossible  de 
se  faire  une  idee."  —  Hist,  de  la  N.  R.  p.  209.] 

(2)  Allah  Hu !  is  properly  the  war  cry  of  the  Mussulmans,  and  they 
dwell  on  the  last  syllable,  which  gives  it  a  wild  and  peculiar  effect 

(3)  ["  Toutes  les  colonnes  ^talent  en  mouvement ;  celles  qui  attaquaient 
par  eau  commandees  par  le  gt^niJral  Arseniew,  essuyferent  un  feu  ^pou- 
vantable,  et  perdirent  avant  le  jour  un  tiers  de  leurs  officiers."  —  Ibid.'}  ', 

(4)  "  But  Thy  *  most  dreaded  instrument 

In  working  out  a  pure  intent. 

Is  man  array'd  for  mutual  slaughter ; 

Yea,  Carnage  is  thy  daughter  !  " 

Wordsworth's  Thanksgiving  Ode. 


*  To  wit,  the  Deity's  :  this  is  perhaps  as  pretty  a  pedigree  for  murder 
as  ever  was  found  out  by  Garter  King  at  Arms.  —  What  would  have  been 
said,  had  any  free-spoken  people  discovered  such  a  lineage  ? 


ANTO  VIU. 


DON   JUAN.  217 


X. 

The  Prince  de  Ligne  was  wounded  in  the  knee  ; 

Count  Chapeau-Bras,  too,  had  a  ball  between 
His  cap  and  head,(i)  which  proves  the  head  to  be 

Aristocratic  as  was  ever  seen, 
Because  it  then  received  no  injury 

More  than  the  cap ;  in  fact,  the  ball  could  mean 
No  harm  unto  a  right  legitimate  head  : 
"  Ashes  to  ashes" — why  not  lead  to  lead? 

xr. 

Also  the  General  Markow,  Brigadier, 

Insisting  on  removal  of  the  prince 
Amidst  some  groaning  thousands  dying  near, — 

All  common  fellows,  who  might  writhe  and  wince, 
And  shriek  for  water  into  a  deaf  ear, — 

The  General  Markow,  who  could  thus  evince 
His  sympathy  for  rank,  by  the  same  token, 
To  teach  him  greater,  had  his  own  leg  broken.  (2) 

XII. 

Three  hundred  cannon  threw  up  their  emetic, 
And  thirty  thousand  muskets  flung  their  pills 

Like  hail,  to  make  a  bloody  diuretic.  (2) 
Mortality  !  thou  hast  thy  monthly  bills  ; 


(1)  [**  Le  Prince  de  Ligne  fut  blets^  au  genou  ;  le  Due  de  Richelieu  eut 
nne  balle  entre  \c  fond  de  son  bonnet  et  sa  t6te." —  Hist,  de  la  NouveUe 
Ru$tif,  t  iii  p.  210.] 

(2)  r"  Le  brigadier  Markow,  imirtant  pour  qu'on  emportat  le  prince 
bleM^  re^ut  un  coup  de  fu»il  qui  lui  ixac&n&a.  le  pied." — Ibid.  p.  210.] 

(3)  ["  Troii  cents  bouches  k  feu  vomissaient  sans  interruption,  et  trente 
milic  fusils  alimentaient  sans  rclAche  une  grele  dc  balles."  —  Ibid.  p.  SIO.] 


218 


DON   JUAN. 


Thy  plagues,  thy  famines,  thy  physicians,  yet  tick, 

Like  the  death-watch,  within  our  ears  the  ills 
Past,  present,  and  to  come  ; — but  all  may  yield 
To  the  true  portrait  of  one  battle-field. 

XIII. 

There  the  still  varying  pangs,  which  multiply 
Until  their  very  number  makes  men  hard 

By  the  infinities  of  agony, 

Which  meet  the  gaze,  whate'er  it  may  regard— 

The  groan,  the  roll  in  dust,  the  all-white  eye 
Turn'd  back  within  its  socket, —  these  reward 

Your  rank  and  file  by  thousands,  while  the  rest 

May  win  perhaps  a  riband  at  the  breast ! 

XIV. 

Yet  I  love  glory; — glory's  a  great  thing:  — 
Think  what  it  is  to  be  in  your  old  age 

Maintain'd  at  the  expense  of  your  good  king : 
A  moderate  pension  shakes  full  many  a  sage. 

And  heroes  are  but  made  for  bards  to  sing. 
Which  is  still  better ;  thus  in  verse  to  wage 

Your  wars  eternally,  besides  enjoying 

Half-pay  for  life,  make  mankind  worth  destroying. 

XV. 

The  troops,  already  disembark'd,  push'd  on 
To  take  a  battery  on  the  right ;  the  others. 

Who  landed  lower  down,  their  landing  done. 
Had  set  to  work  as  briskly  as  their  brothers : 


CANTO  VJll. 


DON   JUAN.  219 


Being  grenadiers,  they  mounted  one  by  one, 

Cheerful  as  children  climb  the  breasts  of  mothers. 
O'er  the  entrenchment  and  the  palisade,(^) 
Quite  orderly,  as  if  upon  parade. 


XVI. 

And  this  was  admirable  ;  for  so  hot 

The  fire  was,  that  were  red  Vesuvius  loaded, 

Besides  its  lava,  with  all  sorts  of  shot 

And  shells  or  hells,  it  could  not  more  have  goaded. 

Of  officers  a  third  fell  on  the  spot, 

A  thing  which  victory  by  no  means  boded 

To  gentlemen  engaged  in  the  assault : 

Hounds,  when  the  huntsman  tumbles,  are  at  fault. 


XVII. 

But  here  I  leave  the  general  concern. 
To  track  our  hero  on  his  path  of  fame : 

He  must  his  laurels  separately  earn; 

For  fifty  thousand  heroes,  name  by  name, 

Tliough  all  deserving  equally  to  turn 
A  couplet,  or  an  elegy  to  claim, 

Would  form  a  lengthy  lexicon  of  glory. 

And  what  is  worse  still,  a  much  longer  story  : 


(1)  ["  Le»  troopea,  iejk  d«'l)arqu<'cs,  se  portfercnt  &  droite  pour  s'eirparer 
twtterie;  et  celle*  dMMtrquees  plus  bas,  principalcment  compos^cs  des 
annadien  de  Fsnagorie,  etcaladaicnt  Ic  retrancbement  et  la  palissade"— 
Hist  de  la  NomvetU  Btusie,  torn.  iii.  p.  210.] 


220  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  VIII. 


XVIII. 

And  therefore  we  must  give  the  greater  number 
To  the  Gazette — which  doubtless  fairly  dealt 

By  the  deceased,  who  lie  in  famous  slumber 
In  ditches,  fields,  or  wheresoe'er  they  felt 

Their  clay  for  the  last  time  their  souls  encumber ; — 
Thrice  happy  he  whose  name  has  been  well  spelt 

In  the  despatch  :  I  knew  a  man  whose  loss 

Was  printed  Grove,  although  his  name  was  Grose,  (i) 

XIX. 

Juan  and  Johnson  join'd  a  certain  corps, 

And  fought  away  with  might  and  main,  notknowing 

The  way  which  they  had  never  trod  before, 

And  still  less  guessing  where  they  might  be  going ; 

But  on  they  march'd,  dead  bodies  trampling  o'er, 
Firing,  and  thrusting,  slashing,  sweating,  glowing, 

But  fighting  thoughtlessly  enough  to  win. 

To  their  two  selves,  one  whole  bright  bulletin. 

XX. 

Thus  on  they  wallow'd  in  the  bloody  mire 

Of  dead  and  dying  thousands,  —  sometimes  gaining 

A  yard  or  two  of  ground,  which  brought  them  nigher 
To  some  odd  angle  for  which  all  were  straining ; 

At  other  times,  repulsed  by  the  close  fire, 

Which  really  pour'd  as  if  all  hell  were  raining 

Instead  of  heaven,  they  stumbled  backwards  o'er 

A  wounded  comrade,  sprawling  in  his  gore. 

(1)  A  fact :  see  the  Waterloo  Gazettes.  I  recollect  remarking  at  the 
time  to  a  friend:  — "  There  is  fame !  a  man  is  killed,  his  name  is  Grose, 
and  they  print  it  Grove."  I  was  at  college  with  the  deceased,  who  was  a 
rery  amiable  and  clever  man,  and  his  society  in  great  request  for  his  wit, 
gaiety,  and  "  Chansons  h.  boire." 


CANTO  VIU. 


DON    JUAN.  221 


xxr. 

Though  *t  was  Don  Juan's  first  of  fields,  and  though 
The  nightly  muster  and  the  silent  march 

In  the  chill  dark,  when  courage  does  not  glow 
So  much  as  under  a  triumphal  arch, 

Perhaps  might  make  him  shiver,  yawn,  or  throw 
A  glance  on  the  dull  clouds  (as  thick  as  starch. 

Which  stiffen'd  heaven)  as  if  he  wish'd  for  day  ; — 

Yet  for  all  this  he  did  not  run  away. 

XXII. 

Indeed  he  could  not.     But  what  if  he  had  ? 

There  have  been  and  are  heroes  who  begun 
With  something  not  much  better,  or  as  bad  : 

Frederic  the  Great  from  Molwitz  deign'd  to  run, 
For  the  first  and  last  time ;  for,  like  a  pad, 

Or  hawk,  or  bride,  most  mortals  after  one 
Warm  bout  are  broken  into  their  new  tricks. 
And  fight  like  fiends  for  pay  or  politics. 

xxiir. 
He  was  what  Erin  calls,  in  her  sublime 

Old  Erse  or  Irish,  or  it  may  be  Punic  ;  — 
(The  antiquarians (')  who  can  settle  time, 

Which  settles  all  things,  Roman,  Greek,  or  Runic, 
Swear  that  Pat's  language  sprung  from  the  same  clime 

With  Hannibal,  and  wears  the  Tyrian  tunic 
Of  Dido's  alphabet ;  and  this  is  rational 
As  any  other  notion,  and  not  national)  ; — 

(1)  See  General  Valancey  and  Sir  Lawrence  Parsons 


222  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  VIII. 


XXIV. 

But  Juan  was  quite  "  a  broth  of  a  boy," 
A  thing  of  impulse  and  a  child  of  song ; 

Now  swimming  in  the  sentiment  of  joy, 

Or  the  sensation  (if  that  phrase  seem  wrong), 

And  afterward,  if  he  must  needs  destroy, 
In  such  good  company  as  always  throng 

To  battles,  sieges,  and  that  kind  of  pleasure, 

No  less  delighted  to  employ  his  leisure ; 

XXV. 

But  always  without  malice  :  if  he  warr'd 

Or  loved,  it  was  with  what  we  call  "  the  best 

Intentions,"  which  form  all  mankind's  trump  card, 
To  be  produced  when  brought  up  to  the  test. 

The  statesman,  hero,  harlot,  lawyer — ward 

Off  each  attack,  when  people  are  in  quest  fl 

Of  their  designs,  by  saying  they  meant  well ; 

'Tis  pity  "  that  such  meaning  should  pave  hell."  Q) 

XXVI. 

I  almost  lately  have  begun  to  doubt 

Whether  hell's  pavement — if  it  be  ^o  paved — 

Must  not  have  latterly  been  quite  worn  out, 
Not  by  the  numbers  good  intent  hath  saved, 

But  by  the  mass  who  go  below  without 

Those  ancient  good  intentions,  which  once  shaved 

And  smooth'd  the  brimstone  of  that  street  of  hell 

Which  bears  the  greatest  likeness  to  Pall  Mall. 


Cl)  The  Portuguese  proverb  says  that  "  hell  is  paved  with  good  inten- 
tions." 


CANTO  vm. 


DON  JUAN.  223 


XXVII. 
Juan,  by  some  strange  chance,  which  oft  divides 

Warrior  from  warrior  in  their  grim  career, 
Like  chastest  wives  from  constant  husbands'  sides 

Just  at  the  close  of  the  first  bridal  year, 
By  one  of  those  odd  turns  of  Fortune's  tides, 

Was  on  a  sudden  rather  puzzled  here, 
When,  after  a  good  deal  of  heavy  firing. 
He  found  himself  alone,  and  friends  retiring. 

XXVIII. 

I  don't  know  how  the  thing  occurr'd — it  might 
Be  that  the  greater  part  were  kill'd  or  wounded. 

And  that  the  rest  had  faced  unto  the  right 
About ;  a  circumstance  which  has  confounded 

Caesar  himself,  who  in  the  very  sight 

Of  his  whole  army,  which  so  much  abounded 

In  courage,  was  obliged  to  snatch  a  shield, 

And  rally  back  his  Romans  to  the  field.  (') 

XXIX. 

Juan,  who  had  no  shield  to  snatch,  and  was 
No  Caesar,  but  a  fine  young  lad,  who  fought 

He  knew  not  why,  arriving  at  this  pass, 
Stopp'd  for  a  minute,  as  perhaps  he  ought 

(1)  C"  The  Nenrll  marched  to  the  number  of  sixty  thousand,  and  fell 
upon  Ca»ar,  as  he  was  fortifying  his  camp,  and  had  not  the  least  notion  of 
so  sudden  an  attack.  They  first  routed  his  cavalry,  and  then  surrounded 
the  twelfUj  and  the  seventh  legions,  and  killed  all  the  officers.  Had  not 
Cssar  snatched  a  buckler  from  one  of  his  own  men,  forced  his  way 
through  the  combatants  before  him,  and  rushed  upon  the  barbarians ;  or 
had  not  the  tenth  legion,  seeing  his  danger,  ran  from  the  heights  wher« 
they  were  posted,  and  mowed  down  the  enemy's  ranks,  not  one  Roman 
would  have  survived  the  battle."  —  Plutabcu.  J 


224?  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  via. 

For  a  much  longer  time  ;  then,  Hke  an  ass — 

(Start  not,  kind  reader,  since  great  Homer  thought 
This  simile  enough  for  Ajax,  Juan 
Perhaps  may  find  it  better  than  a  new  one) ; — 

XXX. 

Then,  like  an  ass,  he  went  upon  his  way, 

And,  what  was  stranger,  never  look'd  behind ; 

But  seeing,  flashing  forward,  like  the  day 
Over  the  hills,  a  fire  enough  to  blind 

Those  who  dislike  to  look  upon  a  fray. 
He  stumbled  on,  to  try  if  he  could  find 

A  path,  to  add  his  own  slight  arm  and  forces 

To  corps,  the  greater  part  of  which  were  corses. 


Perceiving  then  no  more  the  commandant 

Of  his  own  corps,  nor  even  the  corps,  which  had 

Quite  disappear'd — the  gods  know  how  !  (I  can't 
Account  for  every  thing  which  may  look  bad 

In  history ;  but  we  at  least  may  grant 
It  was  not  marvellous  that  a  mere  lad, 

In  search  of  glory,  should  look  on  before. 

Nor  care  a  pinch  of  snuff  about  his  corps :) — 

XXXII. 

Perceiving  nor  commander  nor  commanded, 
And  left  at  large,  like  a  young  heir,  to  make 

His  way  to — where  he  knew  not — single  handed; 
As  travellers  follow  over  bog  and  brake 


vSTOViii.  DON    JUAN.  225 

An  "  ignis  fatiius;"  or  as  sailors  stranded 

Unto  the  nearest  hut  themselves  betake ; 
So  Juan,  following  honour  and  his  nose, 
Rush'd  where   the  thickest   fire   announced   most 
foes.(i) 

XXXIII.  / 

He  knew  not  where  he  was,  nor  greatly  cared, 
For  he  was  dizzy,  busy,  and  his  veins 

Fiird  as  with  lightning — for  his  spirit  shared 
The  hour,  as  is  the  case  with  lively  brains ; 

And  where  the  hottest  fire  was  seen  and  heard, 
And  the  loud  cannon  peal'd  his  hoarsest  strains, 

He  rush'd,  while  earth  and  air  were  sadly  shaken 

By  thy  humane  discovery.  Friar  Bacon !  (^) 


XXXIV. 

And  as  he  rush'd  along,  it  came  to  pass  he 
Fell  in  with  what  was  late  the  second  column, 

Under  the  orders  of  the  General  Lascy, 
But  now  reduced,  as  is  a  bulky  volume 

Into  an  elegant  extract  (much  less  massy) 
Of  heroism,  and  took  his  place  with  solemn 

Air  'midst  the  rest,  who  kept  their  valiant  faces 

And  levell'd  weapons  still  against  the  glacis. 


(1)  [**  N'appcrcevant  plus  le  commandant  du  corps  dont  je  faisais  partie, 
«^  ignorant  oil  je  derail  porter  mes  pis,  je  crus  reconnoitre  le  lieu  oil  le 

mpart  ^tait  »itu^  ;  on  y  faisait  un  feu  assez  vif,  que  je  jugeai  etre  celui 
•  ..I  general-major  de  Latcy."  —Hist,  de  la  N.  R.  p.  210.] 

(2)  Gunpowder  Is  said  to  have  been  discovered  by  this  friar.     [N.  B. 
ThmiRh  1-riar  Bacon  seems  to  have  discovered  gunjKJwdcr,  he  had  the 

'1/  not  to  record  bis  discorery  In  intelligible  language.  —  E.] 

I-.  XVI.  Q 


226  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  vm. 


XXXV. 

Just  at  this  crisis  up  came  Johnson  too, 

Who  had  "  retreated,"  as  the  phrase  is  when 

Men  run  away  much  rather  than  go  through 
Destruction's  jaws  into  the  devil's  den ; 

But  Johnson  was  a  clever  fellow,  who 

Knew  when  and  how  "  to  cut  and  come  again, 

And  never  ran  away,  except  when  running 

Was  nothing  but  a  valorous  kind  of  cunning. 


XXXVI. 

And  so,  when  all  his  corps  were  dead  or  dying, 
Except  Don  Juan,  a  mere  novice,  whose 

More  virgin  valour  never  dreamt  of  flying. 
From  ignorance  of  danger,  which  indues 

Its  votaries,  like  innocence  relying  [thews, — 

On  its  own  strength,  with  careless  nerves  and 

Johnson  retired  a  little,  just  to  rally 

Those  who  catch  cold  in  "  shadows  of  Death's  valley. " 


XXXVII. 

And  there,  a  little  shelter'd  from  the  shot. 
Which  rain'd  from  bastion,  battery,  parapet. 

Rampart,  wall,  casement,  house — for  there  was  not 
In  this  extensive  city,  sore  beset 

By  Christian  soldiery,  a  single  spot 

Which  did  not  combat  like  the  devil,  as  yet, — 

He  found  a  number  of  Chasseurs,  all  scatter'd 

By  the  resistance  of  the  chase  they  batter'd. 


CANTO  VIII. 


DON    JUAN.  227 


XXXVIII. 

And  these  he  call'd  on;  and,  what's  strange,  they  came 
Unto  his  call,  unlike  "  the  spirits  from 

The  vasty  deep,"  to  whom  you  may  exclaim, 

Says  Hotspur,   long   ere   they  will  leave   their 

Their  reasons  were  uncertainty,  or  shame  [home.(^) 
At  shrinking  from  a  bullet  or  a  bomb. 

And  that  odd  impulse,  which  in  wars  or  creeds 

Makes  men,  like  cattle,  follow  him  who  leads. 

XXXIX. 

By  Jove !  he  was  a  noble  fellow,  Johnson, 
And  though  his  name,  than  Ajax  or  Achilles, 

Sounds  less  harmonious,  underneath  the  sun  soon 
VV^e  shall  not  see  his  likeness :  he  could  kill  his 

Man  quite  as  quietly  as  blows  the  monsoon 

Her  steady  breath  (which  some  months  the  same 
still  is) : 

Seldom  he  varied  feature,  hue,  or  muscle, 

And  could  be  very  busy  without  bustle ; 

XL. 

And  therefore,  when  he  ran  away,  he  did  so 
Upon  reflection,  knowing  that  behind 

He  would  find  others  who  would  fain  be  rid  so 
Of  idle  apprehensions,  which  like  wind 

Trouble  heroic  stomachs.     Though  their  lids  so 
Oft  are  soon  closed,  all  heroes  are  not  blind, 

But  when  they  light  upon  immediate  death, 

Retire  a  little,  merely  to  take  breath. 

,  IGlatdmoer.  **  I  can  call  tpiriu  from  the  vaaty  deep. 
Hotspur.  Why  w  can  I,  or  (o  can  any  man  : 

But  will  they  come  when  you  do  call  for  them  ?  "— 

Henry  IFJ 

Q  2 


228  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  Via. 


XLI. 

But  Johnson  only  ran  off,  to  return 
With  many  other  warriors,  as  we  said, 

Unto  that  rather  somewhat  misty  bourn. 

Which  Hamlet  tells  us  is  a  pass  of  dread,  (i) 

To  Jack  howe'er  this  gave  but  slight  concern : 
His  soul  (like  galvanism  upon  the  dead) 

Acted  upon  the  living  as  on  wire, 

And  led  them  back  into  the  heaviest  fire. 

XLII. 

Egad!  they  found  the  second  time  what  they 
The  first  time  thought  quite  terrible  enough 

To  fly  from,  malgre  all  which  people  say 
Of  glory,  and  all  that  immortal  stuff 

Which  fills  a  regiment  (besides  their  pay, 

That  daily  shilling  which  makes  warriors  tough)  — 

They  found  on  their  return  the  self-same  welcome, 

Which  made  some  thiiik,  and  others  know^  a  hell  come. 

XLIII. 

They  fell  as  thick  as  harvests  beneath  hail, 
Grass  before  scythes,  or  corn  below  the  sickle, 

Proving  that  trite  old  truth,  that  life's  as  frail 
As  any  other  boon  for  which  men  stickle. 

The  Turkish  batteries  thrash'd  them  like  a  flail 
Or  a  good  boxer,  into  a  sad  pickle 

Putting  the  very  bravest,  who  were  knock 'd 

Upon  the  head,  before  their  guns  were  cock'd. 

[ "  the  dread  of  something  after  death,— 

The  undiscover'd  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveller  returns."  — i/awfe/J 


ANTOVIII.  DON    JUAN.  229 

XLIV. 

The  Turks  behind  the  traverses  and  flanks 
Of  the  next  bastion,  fired  away  like  devils, 

And  swept,  as  gales  sweep  foam  away,  whole  ranks : 
However,  Heaven  knows  how,  the  Fate  who  levels 

Towns,  nations,  worlds,  in  her  revolving  pranks, 
So  order'd  it,  amidst  these  sulphur}^  revels. 

That  Johnson  and  some  few  who  had  not  scamper'd, 

Reached  the  mterior  talus(i)  of  the  rampart. (-) 

XLV. 

First  one  or  two,  then  five,  six,  and  a  dozen 
Came  mounting  quickly  up,  for  it  was  now 

All  neck  or  nothing,  as,  like  pitch  or  rosin. 

Flame  was  shower'd  forth  above,  as  well's  below, 

So  that  you  scarce  could  say  who  best  had  chosen, 
The  gentlemen  that  were  the  first  to  show 

Their  martial  faces  on  the  parapet. 

Or  those  who  thought  it  brave  to  wait  as  yet. 

XLVI. 

But  those  who  scaled,  found  out  that  their  advance 
Was  favour'd  by  an  accident  or  blunder : 

The  Greek  or  Turkish  Cohorn's  ignorance 
Had  pallisado'd  in  a  way  you'd  wonder 

(1)  ["  Talut,  —  the  ilope  or  inclination  of  a  wall,  whereby,  reclining  at 
the  top  M)  as  to  fall  within  its  base,  the  thickness  is  gradually  lessened 
according  to  the  height."  —  Milit.  Diet.'] 

(2)  ["  Appellant  ceux  de«  chasseurs  qui  etaient  autour  de  moi  en  assez 
grand  nombre,  je  m'avan^ai  et  reconnus  ne  m'etre  point  trompi;  dans  mon 
calcul ;  c'^tatt  en  effbt  cette  colonne  qui  k  I'instant  parvenait  au  sommet 
du  rempart.  Let  Turcs  de  derri^re  les  travers  ct  les  flancs  des  bastions 
voUins  faiMient  sur  ellc  un  feu  tr^vif  de  canon  ct  de  mousqueterie.  Je 
gravis,  avec  les  gens  qui  m'avaicnt  suivi,  le  talus  int^rieur  du  rempart."  — 
/fist,  de  la  S.  R.  p.  211.] 

Q    3 


230  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  VIII. 


To  see  in  forts  of  Netherlands  or  France — 

(Though  these  to  our  Gibraltar  mustknock  under) — 
Right  in  the  middle  of  the  parapet 
Just  named,  these  palisades  were  primly  set:(i) 


XLVII. 

So  that  on  either  side  some  nine  or  ten 

Paces  were  left,  whereon  you  could  contrive 

To  march ;  a  great  convenience  to  our  men. 
At  least  to  all  those  who  were  left  alive, 

Who  thus  could  form  a  line  and  fight  again ; 
And  that  which  farther  aided  them  to  strive 

Was,  that  they  could  kick  down  the  palisades. 

Which  scarcely  rose  much  higher  than  grass  blades. 


XLVIII. 

Among  the  first, — I  will  not  say  the  Jirst, 
For  such  precedence  upon  such  occasions 

Will  oftentimes  make  deadly  quarrels  burst 
Out  between  friends  as  well  as  allied  nations : 

The  Briton  must  be  bold  who  really  durst 
Put  to  such  trial  John  Bull's  partial  patience. 

As  say  that  Wellington  at  Waterloo 

Was  beaten, — though  the  Prussians  say  so  too; — 


(1)  ["  Ce  fut  dans  cet  instant  que  je  reconnus  combien  I'ignorance  du 
constructeur  des  palissades  dtait  importante  pour  nous  ;  car,  comme  ellea 
^taient  places  au  milieu  du  parapet,"  &c.  —  Hist,  de  la  N.  R.  p.  211.] 

(2)  ["  II  y  avait  de  chaque  cAt6  neuf  a  dix  pieds  sur  lesquels  on  pouvait 
marcher ;  etles  soldats,  aprfes  etre  montts,  avaient  pu  se  ranger  commode- 
ment  sur  I'espace  extferieur,  qui  ne  s'eleva  que  d'si-peu-prfes  deux  pieds 
au-dessus  du  niveau  de  la  texxQ."  —  Ibid.  p.  211.] 


CANTO  VIII. 


DON   JUAN.  231 


XLIX. 

And  that  if  Blucher,  Bulovv,  Gneisenau, 

And  God  knows  who  besides  in  "  au"  and  "  ou," 

Had  not  come  up  in  time  to  cast  an  awe  Q) 
Into  the  hearts  of  those  who  fought  till  now 

As  tigers  combat  with  an  empty  craw, 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  had  ceased  to  show 

His  orders,  also  to  receive  his  pensions, 

Which  are  the  heaviest  that  our  history  mentions. 

L. 

But  never  mind; — "  God  save  the  king  I"  and  kings! 

For  if  /le  don't,  I  doubt  if  men  will  longer  — 
I  think  I  hear  a  little  bird,  who  sings 

The  people  by  and  by  will  be  the  stronger : 
The  veriest  jade  will  wince  whose  harness  wrings 

So  much  into  the  raw  as  quite  to  wrong  her 
Beyond  the  rules  of  posting,  —  and  the  mob 
At  last  fall  sick  of  imitating  Job. 

LI. 

At  first  it  grumbles,  then  it  swears,  and  then, 
Like  David,  flings  smooth  pebbles  'gainst  a  giant ; 

At  last  it  takes  to  weapons  such  as  men 

Snatch  when  despair  makes  human  hearts  less 
pliant. 

(1)  [It  hu  been  a  favourite  assertion  with  almost  all  the  French,  and 
some  English  writers,  that  the  English  were  on  the  point  of  being  de- 
feated,  when  the  Prussian  force  came  up.  The  contrary  is  the  truth. 
Baron  Muffling  has  given  the  most  explicit  testimony,  "  that  the  battle 
could  have  afforded  no  favourable  result  to  the  enemy,  even  if  the  Prus. 
•ians  had  never  come  up."  The  laurels  of  Waterloo  must  be  divided  — 
the  British  won  the  battle,  the  Prussians  achieved  and  rendered  available 
the  victory.  —  Sir  Walter  Scott.] 

Q   4 


CANTO  Vlll. 


232  DON    JUAN. 

Then  comes  "  the  tug  of  war ;" — 'twill  come  again, 
I  rather  doubt;  and  I  would  fain  say  "  fie  on't," 
If  I  had  not  perceived  that  revolution 
Alone  can  save  the  earth  from  hell's  pollution. 


LII. 

But  to  continue:  —  I  say  not  the  first, 

But  of  the  first,  our  little  friend  Don  Juan 

Walk'd  o'er  the  walls  of  Ismail,  as  if  nursed 
Amidst  such  scenes  —  though  this  was  quite 
new  one 

To  him,  and  I  should  hope  to  most.     The  thirst 
Of  glory,  which  so  pierces  through  and  through  one, 

Pervaded  him  —  although  a  generous  creature, 

As  warm  in  heart  as  feminine  in  feature. 

LIII. 

And  here  he  was — who  upon  woman's  breast, 
Even  from  a  child,  felt  like  a  child ;  howe'er 

The  man  in  all  the  rest  might  be  confest, 
To  him  it  was  Elysium  to  be  there ; 

And  he  could  even  withstand  that  awkward  test 
Which  Rousseau  points  out  to  the  dubious  fair, 

"  Observe  your  lover  when  he  leaves  your  arms ;" 

But  Juan  never  left  them,  while  they  had  charms, 

LIV. 

Unless  compell'd  by  fate,  or  wave,  or  wind. 
Or  near  relations,  who  are  much  the  same. 

But  here  he  was ! — where  each  tie  that  can  bind 
Humanity  must  yield  to  steel  and  flame : 


TO  vni.  DON   JUAN.  233 

And  he  whose  very  body  was  all  mind, 

Flung  here  by  fate  or  circumstance,  which  tame 
The  loftiest,  hurried  by  the  time  and  place, 
Dash'd  on  like  a  spurr'd  blood-horse  in  a  race. 


LV. 

So  was  his  blood  stirr'd  while  he  found  resistance, 
As  is  the  hunter's  at  the  five-bar  gate. 

Or  double  post  and  rail,  where  the  existence 
Of  Britain's  youth  depends  upon  their  weight, 

The  lightest  being  the  safest :  at  a  distance 
He  hated  cruelty,  as  all  men  hate 

Blood,  until  heated — and  even  then  his  own 

At  times  would  curdle  o'er  some  heavy  groan. 


LVI. 

The  General  Lascy,  who  had  been  hard  press'd. 

Seeing  arrive  an  aid  so  opportune 
As  were  some  hundred  youngsters  all  abreast, 

Who  came  as  if  just  dropp'd  down  from  the  moon, 
To  Juan,  who  was  nearest  him,  address'd 

His  thanks,  and  hopes  to  take  the  city  soon. 
Not  reckoning  him  to  be  a  "  base  Bezonian,"(i) 
C  As  Pistol  calls  it)  but  a  young  Livonian.(-) 


(1)  [  FutoU*  ••  Bnonian  "  u  a  corruption  of  bisognoso  —  a,  needy  man 
—metaphorically  (at  least)  a  icoundrcl.] 

(2)  "  La  g^n^ral  Lascy,  voyant  arriver  un  corps,  si  &.propos  k  son  secour, 
•'avan^a  vers  I'ofllcier  qui  I'avait  conduit,  et,  le  prenant  pour  un  Livonien, 
lui  fit,  en  AUemand,  les  cotnpliniens  Ics  plus  flattcurs;  Ic  jeune  mili. 
Uire  (le  due  dc  Richelieu)  qui  parlait  parfaitement  cette  langue,  y  rfepondit 
avec  M  modestie  ordinaire."  —  Hist,  de  la  N.  R.  p.  211.] 


234  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  VIII. 


LVII. 

Juan,  to  whom  he  spoke  in  German,  knew 
As  much  of  German  as  of  Sanscrit,  and 

In  answer  made  an  inchnation  to 

The  general  who  held  him  in  command ; 

For  seeing  one  with  ribands,  black  and  blue. 
Stars,  medals,  and  a  bloody  sword  in  hand, 

Addressing  him  in  tones  which  seem'd  to  thank, 

He  recognised  an  officer  of  rank. 


LVIII. 

Short  speeches  pass  between  two  men  who  speak 
No  common  language ;  and  besides,  in  time 

Of  war  and  taking  towns,  when  many  a  shriek 
Rings  o'er  the  dialogue,  and  many  a  crime 

Is  perpetrated  ere  a  word  can  break 

Upon  the  ear,  and  sounds  of  horror  chime 

In  like  church-bells,  with  sigh,  howl,  groan,  yell,  prayer, 

There  cannot  be  much  conversation  there. 


LIX. 

And  therefore  all  we  have  related  in' 

Two  long  octaves,  pass'd  in  a  little  minute ; ' 

But  in  the  same  small  minute,  every  sin 
Contrived  to  get  itself  comprised  within  it. 

The  very  cannon,  deafened  by  the  din, 

Grew  dumb,  for  you  might  almost  hear  a  linnet, 

As  soon  as  thunder,  'midst  the  general  noise 

Of  human  nature's  agonising  voice  I 


CANTO  Vlll. 


DON    JUAN.  235 


LX. 

The  town  was  enter'd.     Oh  eternity  ! — 

"  God  made  the  country,  and  man  made  the  town," 

So  Cowper  says — and  I  begin  to  be 
Of  his  opinion,  when  I  see  cast  down 

Rome,  Babylon,  Tyre,  Carthage,  Nineveh, 
All  walls  men  know,  and  many  never  known ; 

And  pondering  on  the  present  and  the  past. 

To  deem  the  woods  shall  be  our  home  at  last  :  — 

LXI. 

Of  all  men,  saving  Sylla(')  the  man-slayer, 
WTio  passes  for  in  life  and  death  most  lucky, 

Of  the  great  names  which  in  our  faces  stare. 

The  General  Boon,  back-woodsman  of  Kentucky, 

Was  happiest  amongst  mortals  any  where ; 
For  killing  nothing  but  a  bear  or  buck,  he 

Enjoy'd  the  lonely,  vigorous,  harmless  days 

Of  his  old  age  in  wilds  of  deepest  maze.  (2) 

LXII. 

Crime  came  not  near  him — she  is  not  the  child 
Of  solitude;  Health  shrank  not  from  him — for 

Her  home  is  in  the  rarely  trodden  wild. 

Where  if  men  seek  her  not,  and  death  be  more 

n  ZSeeatUi,  Vol  X.  p.  9.] 

,M  ["  The  wildest  solitudes  are  to  the  taste"  of  some  people.  Gene- 
Boon,  who  was  chiefly  instrumental  in  the  first  settlement  of  Ken- 
tucliy,  is  of  this  turn.  It  is  said,  that  he  is  now  (1818),  at  the  age  of 
seventy,  pursuing  the  daily  chase  two  hundre<l  miles  to  the  westward  of 
the  last  abode  of  civilised  man.  He  had  retired  to  a  chosen  siK)t,  beyond 
the  Missouri,  which,  aAer  him,  is  named  Boon's  Lick,  out  of  the 
reach,  as  he  flattered  himself,  of  intrusion  ;  but  white  men,  even  there, 
eixnroached  upon  him,  and,  two  years  ago,  he  went  back  two  hundred  miles 
Uxtber." ■—  Birkb<ck'M  Notes  on  America.} 


236  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  VIII. 


Their  choice  than  life,  forgive  them,  as  beguiled 

By  habit  to  what  their  own  hearts  abhor  — 
In  cities  caged.  The  present  case  in  point  I 
Cite  is,  that  Boon  lived  hunting  up  to  ninety ; 


LXIII. 

And  what's  still  stranger,  left  behind  a  name 
For  which  men  vainly  decimate  the  throng. 

Not  only  famous,  but  of  that  good  fame, 
Without  which  glory's  but  a  tavern  song  — 

Simple,  serene,  the  antipodes  of  shame, 

Which  hate  nor  envy  e'er  could  tinge  with  wrong; 

An  active  hermit,  even  in  age  the  child 

Of  Nature,  or  the  man  of  Ross  run  wild. 


LXIV. 

'Tis  true  he  shrank  from  men  even  of  his  nation. 
When  they  built  up  unto  his  darling  trees, — 

He  moved  some  hundred  miles  off,  for  a  station 
Where  there  were  fewer  houses  and  more  ease  ;(i) 

The  inconvenience  of  civilisation 

Is,  that  you  neither  can  be  pleased  nor  please ; 

But  where  he  met  the  individual  man, 

He  show'd  himself  as  kind  as  mortal  can. 

(1)  ["  Such  is  the  restless  disposition  of  these  back- woodsmen,  and  so 
averse  are  their  habits  from  those  of  a  civilised  neighbourhood,  that 
nothing  short  of  the  salt,  sandy  desert  can  stop  them.  The  notorious 
Daniel  Boon,  who  about  fifty  different  times  has  shifted  his  abode  west- 
ward, as  civilisation  approached  his  dwelling,  when  asked  the  cause  of  his 
frequent  change,  replied,  *  I  think  it  time  to  remove,  when  I  can  no  longer 
fell  a  tree  for  fuel,  so  that  its  top  will  lie  within  a  few  yards  of  my  cabin.'  " 
—  Quart.  Rev.  vol  xxix.  p.  14.] 


CANTO  vin.  DON    JUAN.  237 

LXV. 

He  was  not  all  alone :  around  him  grew 
A  sylvan  tribe  of  children  of  the  chase, 

\V'hose  young,  unwaken'd  world  was  ever  new, 
Nor  sword  nor  sorrow  yet  had  left  a  trace 

On  her  unwrinkled  brow,  nor  could  you  view 
A  frown  on  Nature's  or  on  human  face ; — 

The  free-born  forest  found  and  kept  them  free, 

And  fresh  as  is  a  torrent  or  a  tree. 


LXVI. 

And  tall,  and  strong,  and  swift  of  foot  were  they, 
Beyond  the  dwarfing  city's  pale  abortions, 

Because  their  thoughts  had  never  been  the  prey 
Ofcare  or  gain:  the  green  woods  were  their  portions  ; 

No  sinking  spirits  told  them  they  grew  grey. 
No  fashion  made  them  apes  of  her  distortions ; 

Simple  they  were,  not  savage ;  and  their  rifles, 

Though  very  true,  were  not  yet  used  for  trifles. 


LXVII. 

ATotion  was  in  their  days,  rest  in  their  slumbers, 

And  cheerfulness  the  handmaid  of  their  toil ; 

>r  yet  too  many  nor  too  few  their  numbers ; 

Corruption  could  not  make  their  hearts  her  soil ; 
The  1  ust  wh ich  stings,  the  splendour  which  encumbers, 

With  the  free  foresters  divide  no  spoil ; 

rene,  not  sullen,  were  the  solitudes 
Of  this  unsighing  people  of  the  woods. 


238  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  VIII. 

LXVIII. 

So  much  for  Nature : — by  way  of  variety, 
Now  back  to  thy  great  joys,  CiviUsation  ! 

And  the  sweet  consequence  of  large  society, 
War,  pestilence,  the  despot's  desolation. 

The  kingly  scourge,  the  lust  of  notoriety, 

The  millions  slain  by  soldiers  for  their  ration, 

The  scenes  like  Catherine's  boudoir  at  threescore. 

With  Ismail's  storm  to  soften  it  the  more. 

LXIX. 

The  town  was  enter'd :  first  one  column  made 
Its  sanguinary  way  good — then  another; 

The  reeking  bayonet  and  the  flashing  blade 

Clash'd  'gainst  the  scimitar,  and  babe  and  mother 

With  distant  shrieks  were  heard  Heaven  to  upbraid :  — 
Still  closer  sulphury  clouds  began  to  smother 

The  breath  of  morn  and  man,  where  foot  by  foot 

The  madden'd  Turks  their  city  still  dispute. 

LXX. 

Koutousow,  he  who  afterward  beat  back 

(With  some  assistance  from  the  frost  and  snow) 

Napoleon  on  his  bold  and  bloody  track. 

It  happen'd  was  himself  beat  back  just  now : 

He  was  a  jolly  fellow,  and  could  crack 
His  jest  alike  in  face  of  friend  or  foe, 

Though  life,  and  death,  and  victory  were  at  stake;(i) 

But  here  it  seem'd  his  jokes  had  ceased  to  take : 


(1)  ["  Parmi  les  colonnes,  une  de  celles  qui  souffrirent  le  plus  fetait 
comraand^e  par  le  General  Koutouzow  (aujourd'hui  Prince  de  Smolensko}. 


CANTO  vjii.  DON   JUAN.  239 

LXXI. 

For  having  thrown  himself  into  a  ditch, 
Follow'd  in  haste  by  various  grenadiers, 

Whose  blood  the  puddle  greatly  did  enrich, 
He  climb'd  to  where  the  parapet  appears ; 

But  there  his  project  reach'd  its  utmost  pitch 
('Mongst  other  deaths  the  General  Jlibaupierre's 

Was  much  regretted),  for  the  Moslem  men 

Threw  them  all  down  into  the  ditch  again.  (*) 

LXXII. 

And  had  it  not  been  for  some  stray  troops  landing 
They   knew   not   where,   being   carried   by  the 
stream 

To  some  spot,  where  they  lost  their  understanding. 
And  wander'd  up  and  down  as  in  a  dream, 

Until  they  reach'd,  as  daybreak  was  expanding. 
That  which  a  portal  to  their  eyes  did  seem, — 

The  great  and  gay  Koutousow  might  have  lain 

Where  three  parts  of  his  column  yet  remain.  (-) 


Ce  brave  militaire  reunit  I'intrepidite  k  un  grand  nombre  de  con- 
naiuances  acquises  ;  il  marche  au  feu  avec  la  meme  gaiete  qu'il  va  k  une 
(etc  ;  il  sajt  commander  avec  autant  de  sang  froid  qu'il  dt-ploie  d'esprit  et 
d'amabiiite  dans  le  coimnerce  habituel  de  la  vie." — Hist,  de  la  Nouveile 
"•  "fV,  lorn.  iii.  p.  212.] 

.  ["  Ce  brave  Koutouzow  se  jcta  dans  le  foss^,  fut  suivi  des  siens,  et 
oe  peiietra  jutqu'au  haut  du  parapet  qu'apr^  avoir  ^-prouve  des  difB. 
oultea  incro;able«.  (Le  brigadier  Ribaupierre  perdit  la  vie  dans  cette 
occasion  :  il  avait  fixe  Pestime  gent-rale,  et  sa  mort  occasionna  beaucoup 
de  regrets.)  Le»  Turcs  accoururent  en  grand  nombre;  cette  multitude 
rt[iouss«  deux  fois  le  g£n£ral  jusqu'au  (oitf—Ibid.  p.  212.] 

["  Quelques  troupes  Russes,  emport^  par  le  courant,  n'ayant  pu 
:rquer  sur  le  terrcin  qu'on  leur  avait  pr(58crit,  &c.*'—  Ibid.  p.  213.] 


240  DON   JUAN.  CAKTO  VIII 

LXXIII. 

And  scrambling  round  the  rampart,  these  same  troops 

After  the  taking  of  the  "  CavaHer,"(^) 
Just  as  Koutousow's  most  "  forlorn"  of  "  hopes" 

Took,  like  chameleons,  some  slight  tinge  of  fear, 
Open'd  the  gate  call'd  "  Kilia,"  to  the  groups  (2) 

Of  baffled  heroes,  who  stood  shyly  near. 
Sliding  knee-deep  in  lately  frozen  mud, 
Now  thaw'd  into  a  marsh  of  human  blood. 

LXXIV. 

The  Kozacks,  or,  if  so  you  please,  Cossacques — 
(I  don't  much  pique  myself  upon  orthography. 

So  that  I  do  not  grossly  err  in  facts, 

Statistics,  tactics,  politics,  and  geograph}')  — 

Having  been  used  to  serve  on  horses'  backs, 
And  no  great  dilettanti  in  topography 

Of  fortresses,  but  fighting  where  it  pleases 

Their  chiefs  to  order, — were  all  cut  to  pieces,  p) 

LXXV. 

Their  column,  though  the  Turkish  batteries  thunder'd 
Upon  them,  ne'ertheless had reach'd  the  rampart,  (^) 

And  naturally  thought  they  could  have  plunder'd 
The  city,  without  being  farther  hamper'd ; 

(1)  [A  "  Cavalier"  is  an  elevation  of  earth,  situated  ordinarily  in  the 
gorge  of  a  bastion,  bordered  with  a  parapet,  and  cut  into  more  or  fewer 
embrasures,  according  to  its  capacity."  —  Milit.  Did.'] 

(2)  [_..."  longferent  le  rempart,  aprfes  la  prise  du  cavalier,  et  ouvrirent 
la  porre  dite  de  Kilia  aux  soldats  du  General  Koutouzow."  —  Hist,  de  la 
N.  R.  p.  213.] 

(3)  ["  II  6tait  rfeservfe  aux  Kozaks  de  combler  de  leur  corps  la  partie  du 
fbss^  oCi  ils  combattaient ;  leur  colonne  avait  et€  divis(5e  cntre  MM.  Pla- 
tow  et  d'Orlow  . .  ."  —  Ibid.  p.  213.] 

(4)  [.  . .  "  La  premiere  partie,  devant  se  joindre  k  la  gauche  du  G^n^ral 
Arsenieu,  fut  foudroyt5e  par  le  feu  des  batteries,  et  parviirt  ndanmoins  au 
baut  du  rempart"  — /i?rf.  p.  213.] 


CANTO  Tin. 


DON    JUAN.  24:1 


But  as  it  happens  to  brave  men,  they  blunder'd — 

The  Turks  at  first  pretended  to  have  scamper'd, 
Only  to  draw  them  'twixt  two  bastion  corners,  (i) 
From  whence  they  sallied  on  those  Christian  scornecs. 

LXXVI. 

Then  being  taken  by  the  tail — a  taking 
Fatal  to  bishops  as  to  soldiers — these 

Cossacques  were  all  cut  off  as  day  was  breaking, 
And  found  their  lives  were  let  at  a  short  lease — 

But  perish'd  without  shivering  or  shaking, 
Leaving  as  ladders  their  heap'd  carcasses. 

O'er  which  Lieutenant-Colonel  Yesouskoi 

March'd  with  the  brave  battahon  of  Polouzki:  —  (-) 

LXXVII. 

This  valiant  man  kill'd  all  the  Turks  he  met, 
But  could  not  eat  them,  being  in  his  turn 

Slain  by  some  Mussulmans,  (^)  who  would  not  yet, 
Without  resistance,  see  their  city  burn. 

The  walls  were  won,  but  'twas  an  even  bet 

Which  of  the  armies  would  have  cause  to  mourn : 

'Twas  blow  for  blow,  disputing  inch  by  inch, 

For  one  would  not  retreat,  nor  t'  other  flinch. 

(1)  ["  Le«  Turc«  la  laiu^rent  un  peu  s'avancer  dans  la  ville,  et  firent 
deux  K>rtie«  par  les  angles  saillans  des  battiona."  —  HisL  de  laNouvelle 
Jtuitie,  torn.  ii.  p.  213.] 

1)  ["  A  ion,  le  trouvant  prise  en  queue,  elle  fut  icrzsie ;  cependant  le 
ijtenant^»tonel  Yesouskoi,  qui  commandait  la  rtjserve  compos^-e  d'uii 

oataillon  du  regiment  de  Polozk,  traversa  le  fosse*  sur  les  cadavrcs  des 

Koiaks.  .  .  "  —  Ibid.  p.  2ia] 

(3)  [ .  .  .  "  et  cxtennina  tous  les  Turcs  qu'il  *eut  en  tete :  ce  brave 
koDune  fut  tu<^-  pendant  Taction."  —  Ibid.  p.  213.] 
VOL.  XVI.  R 


242  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  VIII. 

LXXVIII. 

Another  column  also  sufFer'd  much : — 

And  here  we  may  remark  with  the  historian, 

You  should  but  give  few  cartridges  to  such 

Troops  as  are  meant  to  march  with  greatest  glory  on : 

When  matters  must  be  carried  by  the  touch 

Of  the  bright  bayonet,  and  they  all  should  hurry  on. 

They  sometimes,  with  a  hankering  for  existence, 

Keep  merely  firing  at  a  foohsh  distance,  (i) 


LXXIX. 

A  junction  of  the  General  Meknop's  men 

(Without  the  General,  who  had  fallen  some  time 

Before,  being  badly  seconded  just  then) 

Was  made  at  length  with  those  who  dared  to  climb 

The  death-disgorging  rampart  once  again ; 

And  though  the  Turk's  resistance  was  sublime, 

They  took  the  bastion,  which  the  Seraskier 

Defended  at  a  price  extremely  dear.  (2) 


(1)  "  L'autre  partie  des  Kozaks,  qu'Orlow  commandait,  souffrit  de  la 
manifere  la  plus  cruelle :  elle  attaqua  k  maintes  reprises,  fut  souvent 
repouss^e,  et  perdit  les  deux  tiCTS  de  son  monde.  Et  c'est  ici  le  lieu  de 
placer  une  observation,  que  nous  prenons  dans  les  memoires  qui  nous 
guident ;  elle  fait  remarquer  combien  il  est  mal  tu  de  donner  beaucoup  de 
cartouches  aux  soldats  qui  doivent  emporter  un  poste  de  vive  force,  et  par 
consequent  oh  la  baionnette  doit  principal  em  en  t  agir;  ils  pensent  ne 
devoir  se  servir  de  cette  dernifere  arme,  que  lorsque  les  cartouches  sent 
epuis^es :  dans  cette  persuasion,  ils  retardent  leur  marche,  et  restent  plus 
long-temps  exposes  au  canon  et  k  la  mitraille  de  I'ennemi." —  Hist,  de  la 
N.  R.  p.  214.] 

(2)  ["  La  jonction  de  la  colonne  de  Meknop  —  (le  g^ntral  etant  mal 
second^  fut  tu^)—  s'etant  effectuee  avec  celle  qui  I'avoisinait,  ces  colonnes 
attaquferent  un  bastion,  et  (5prouvferent  un  resistance  opiniatre;  mai« 
bientot  des  cris  de  victoire  se  font  entendre  de  toutes  parts,  et  le  bastion 
est  emporte  :  le  seraskier  d^fendait  cette  partie."  —  Ibid.  p.  214.3 


i 


CAjrro  viii. 


DON  JUAN.  24-3 


LXXX. 

Juan  and  Johnson,  and  some  volunteers 

Among  the  foremost,  ofFer'd  him  good  quarter, 

A  word  which  Httle  suits  with  Seraskiers, 
Or  at  least  suited  not  this  valiant  Tartar. 

He  died,  deserving  well  his  country's  tears, 
A  savage  sort  of  military  martyr. 

An  English  naval  officer,  who  wish'd 

To  make  him  prisoner,  was  also  dish'd : 

LXXXI. 

For  all  the  answer  to  his  proposition 

Was  from  a  pistol-shot  that  laid  him  dead;(') 

On  which  the  rest,  without  more  intermission, 
Began  to  lay  about  with  steel  and  lead — 

The  pious  metals  most  in  requisition 
On  such  occasions :  not  a  single  head 

Was  spared ; — three  thousand  Moslems  perish'd  here, 

And  sixteen  bayonets  pierced  the  Seraskier.  (2) 

LXXXII. 

The  city's  taken — only  part  by  part — 

And  Death  is  drunk  with  gore :  there 's  not  a  street 

Where  fights  not  to  the  last  some  desperate  heart 
For  those  for  whom  it  soon  shall  cease  to  beat.  (3) 

'   (!)[•••"  ""  oflBcier  de  marine  Anglais,  Teut  le[faire  prisonnier,  et 
xef  oit  un  coup  de  pistolet  qui  I'^tend  roide mort."  —  Hist,  de  la  N.R.  p.  214.3 

(2)  ["  Le*  Rusaes  passent  troia  mille  Turcs  au  fil  de  I'epce;  seize  baion- 
nette*  percent  k  U  {(A%  le  tetziWet." —. Ibid.  p.  214.] 

(3)  ["  La  villc  est  emportde ;  I'image  de  la  mort  et  de  la  destruction  se 
represente  de  tous  les  cfAki  ;  le  soldat  furicux  n'ecoutc  plus  la  voix  de  se« 
officiers,  il  ne  respire  que  le  carnage ;  alter<2  de  sang,  tout  est  indifilrent 
pourluL— /Wrf.  p. 214.]" 

R  2 


244?  DON   JUAN.  CAKTOVIII. 

Here  War  forgot  his  own  destructive  art 

In  more  destroying  Nature ;  and  the  heat 
Of  carnage,  like  the  Nile's  sun-sodden  slime, 
Engender'd  monstrous  shapes  of  every  crime. 

LXXXIII. 

A  Russian  officer,  in  martial  tread 

Over  a  heap  of  bodies,  felt  his  heel 
Seized  fast,  as  if 'twere  by  the  serpent's  head 

Whose  fangs  Eve  taught  her  human  seed  to  feel : 
In  vain  he  kick'd,  and  swore,  and  writhed,  and  bled, 

And  howl'd  for  help  as  wolves  do  for  a  meal — 
The  teeth  still  kept  their  gratifying  hold, 
As  do  the  subtle  snakes  described  of  old. 

LXXXIV. 

A  dying  Moslem,  who  had  felt  the  foot 
Of  a  foe  o'er  him,  snatch'd  at  it,  and  bit 

The  very  tendon  which  is  most  acute  — 

(That  which  some  ancient  Muse  or  modern  wit 

Named  after  thee,  Achilles)  and  quite  through 't 
He  made  the  teeth  meet,  nor  relinquish'd  it 

Even  with  his  life — for  (but  they  lie)  'tis  said 

To  the  live  leg  still  clung  the  sever'd  head. 

LXXXV.  J 

However  this  may  be,  'tis  pretty  sure  >m 

The  Russian  officer  for  life  was  lamed. 

For  the  Turk's  teeth  stuck  faster  than  a  skewer, 
And  left  him  'midst  the  invalid  and  maim'd : 


CANTO  VIII. 


DON    JUAN.  24^ 


The  regimental  surgeon  could  not  cure 

His  patient,  and  perhaps  was  to  be  blamed 
More  than  the  head  of  the  inveterate  foe, 
Which  was  cut  off,  and  scarce  even  then  let  go. 

LXXXVI. 

But  then  the  fact 's  a  fact  —  and  'tis  the  part 
Of  a  true  poet  to  escape  from  fiction 

Whene'er  he  can  ;  for  there  is  little  art 
In  leaving  verse  more  free  from  the  restriction 

Of  truth  than  prose,  unless  to  suit  the  mart 
For  what  is  sometimes  call'd  poetic  diction, 

And  that  outrageous  appetite  for  lies 

Which  Satan  angles  with  for  souls,  like  flies. 

LXXXVII. 

The  city's  taken,  but  not  render'd! — No  ! 

There 's  not  a  Moslem  that  hath  yielded  sword 
The  blood  may  gush  out,  as  the  Danube's  flow 

Rolls  by  the  city  wall ;  but  deed  nor  word 
Acknowledge  aught  of  dread  of  death  or  foe : 

In  vain  the  yell  of  victory  is  roar'd 
By  the  advancing  Muscovite — the  groan 
Of  the  last  foe  is  echoed  by  his  own. 

LXXXVIII. 

Tlie  bayonet  pierces  and  the  sabre  cleaves, 
And  human  lives  are  lavish 'd  every  where, 

As  the  year  closing  whirls  the  scarlet  leaves 
When  the  stripp'd  forest  bows  to  the  bleak  air. 


R  3 


246  DON   JUAN. 


CAKTO  VIII. 


And  groans ;  and  thus  the  peopled  city  grieves, 
Shorn  of  its  best  and  loveliest,  and  left  bare ; 
But  still  it  falls  with  vast  and  awful  splinters, 
As  oaks  blown  down  with  all  their  thousand  winters. 

LXXXIX. 

It  is  an  awful  topic — but  'tis  not 

My  cue  for  any  time  to  be  terrific : 
For  checker'd  as  is  seen  our  human  lot 

With  good,  and  bad,  and  worse,  alike  prolific 
Of  melancholy  merriment,  to  quote 

Too  much  of  one  sort  would  be  soporific ; — 
Without^  or  with,  offence  to  friends  or  foes, 
I  sketch  your  world  exactly  as  it  goes. 

xc. 

And  one  good  action  in  the  midst  of  crimes 
Is  "  quite  refreshing,"  in  the  affected  phrase 

Of  these  ambrosial,  Pharisaic  times. 

With  all  their  pretty  milk-and-water  ways. 

And  may  serve  therefore  to  bedew  these  rhymes, 
A  little  scorch'd  at  present  with  the  blaze 

Of  conquest  and  its  consequences,  which 

Make  epic  poesy  so  rare  and  rich. 

xci. 
Upon  a  taken  bastion,  where  there  lay 

Thousands  of  slaughtered  men,  a  yet  warm  group 
Of  murder'd  women,  who  had  found  their  way 

To  this  vain  refuge,  made  the  good  heart  droop 


CANTO  viir. 


DON  JUAN.  24?7 


And  slmdder; — while,  as  beautiful  as  May, 
A  female  child  of  ten  years  tried  to  stoop 
And  hide  her  little  palpitating  breast 
Amidst  the  bodies  luU'd  in  bloody  rest.(i) 


XCII. 

Two  villanous  Cossacques  pursued  the  child    [them, 
With  flashing  eyes  and  weapons :   match'd  with 

The  rudest  brute  that  roams  Siberia's  wild. 
Has  feelings  pure  and  polish'd  as  a  gem, — 

The  bear  is  civilised,  the  wolf  is  mild ; 

And  whom  for  this  at  last  must  we  condemn? 

Their  natures  ?  or  their  sovereigns,  who  employ 

All  arts  to  teach  their  subjects  to  destroy  ? 


XCIII. 

Their  sabres  glitter'd  o'er  her  little  head. 

Whence  her  fair  hair  rose  twining  with  affright. 

Her  hidden  face  was  plunged  amidst  the  dead : 
When  Juan  caught  a  glimpse  of  this  sad  sight, 

I  shall  not  say  exactly  what  he  said, 

Because  it  might  not  solace  "  ears  polite  ;"(^) 

But  what  he  didy  was  to  lay  on  their  backs, 

The  readiest  way  of  reasoning  with  Cossacques. 

(1)  {_"  ^^  uuvai  la  vie  k  une  fille  de  dix  ans,  dont  Tinnocence  et  la 
candeur  fonnaient  un  contraste  bien  frappant  avec  la  rage  de  tout  ce  qui 
xn'environnait  En  arrivant  «ur  le  bastion  oil  le  combat  cessa  et  oil  com- 
xnen^a  le  carnage,  j'appcrgu*  un  groupe  de  quatre  femmes  ^gorg^cs,  entre 
le«qucllci  cet  enfant,  d'une  figure  charmante,  cherchait  un  asile  contre  la 
ftireur  de  deux  Kozalu  qui  ^taient  »ur  le  point  de  la  mas«acrer."— Due  de 
RjcHELiEU.    See  Ilitt.  dc  la  Souv.  Ruts.  torn.  iii.  p.  217-] 

(2)  ["  But  nerer  mention  hell  to  eari  polite."  —  Pope.] 

R  4 


I 


248  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  viir. 


XCIV. 

One's  hip  he  slash'd,  and  split  the  other's  shoulder. 
And  drove  them  with  their  brutal  yells  to  seek 

If  there  might  be  chirurgeons  who  could  solder 
The  wounds  they  richly  merited,  (i)  and  shriek 

Tlieir  baffled  rage  and  pain ;  while  waxing  colder 
As  he  turn'd  o'er  each  pale  and  gory  cheek, 

Don  Juan  raised  his  little  captive  from 

The  heap  a  moment  more  had  made  her  tomb. 

xcv. 

And  she  was  chill  as  they,  and  on  her  face 

A  slender  streak  of  blood  announced  how  near 

Her  fate  had  been  to  that  of  all  her  race  ; 

For  the  same  blow  which  laid  her  mother  here 

Had  scarr'd  her  brow,  and  left  its  crimson  trace 
As  the  last  link  which  all  she  had  held  dear ;  (2) 

But  else  unhurt,  she  open'd  her  large  eyes, 

And  gazed  on  Juan  with  a  wild  surprise. 

xcvi. 
Just  at  this  instant,  while  their  eyes  were  fix'd 

Upon  each  other,  with  dilated  glance, 
In  Juan's  look,  pain,  pleasure,  hope,  fear,  mix'd 

With  joy  to  save,  and  dread  of  some  mischance 

(1)  ["'Ce  spectacle  m'attira  bient6t,  et  je  n'hfesitai  pas,  comme  on  pcut 
le  croire,  a  prendre  entre  mes  bras  cette  infortun^e,  que  les  barbares  vou- 
laient  y  poursuivre  encore.  J'eus  bien  de  la  peine  k  me  retenir  et  k  ne 
pas  percer  ces  miserables  du  sabre  que  je  tenais  suspendu  sur  leur  tete  :  — 
je  me  contentai  cependant  dc  les  (Eloigner,  non  sans  leur  prodiguer  les 
coups  et  les  injures  qu'ils  m^ritaient  .  .  .  "  —  Richelieu.] 

(2)  ["....  J'eus  le  plaisir  d'appergevoir  que  ma  petite  prisonnifere 
n'avait  d'autre  mal  qu'une  coupure  K'gfere  que  lui  avait  faite  au  visage 
le  meme  fer  qui  avait  perct-  sa  mfere."  —  Jbid.j 


CANTO  VI 11. 


DON    JUAN.  24-9 


Unto  his  protegee  ;  while  hers,  transfix'd 

With  infant  terrors,  glared  as  from  a  trance, 
A  pure,  transparent,  pale,  yet  radiant  face, 
Like  to  a  lighted  alabaster  vase  ; — 

XCVII. 

Up  came  John  Johnson  (I  will  not  say  "  Jack,'' 
For  that  were  vulgar,  cold,  and  common-place 

On  great  occasions,  such  as  an  attack 

On  cities,  as  hath  been  the  present  case) : 

Up  Johnson  came,  with  hundreds  at  his  back. 
Exclaiming: — "Juan!  Juan!  On,  boy!  brace 

Your  arm,  and  I'll  bet  Moscow  to  a  dollar 

That  you  and  I  will  win  St.  George's  collar.  Q) 

XCVIII. 

"  The  Seraskier  is  knock'd  upon  the  head, 
But  the  stone  bastion  still  remains,  wherein 

The  old  Pacha  sits  among  some  hundreds  dead, 
Smoking  his  pipe  quite  calmly  'midst  the  din 

Of  our  artillery  and  his  own  :  'tis  said 
Our  kill'd,  already  piled  up  to  the  chin. 

Lie  round  the  battery ;  but  still  it  batters, 

And  grape  in  volleys,  like  a  vineyard,  scatters. 

xcix. 
"  Then  up  with  me  I"  — But  Juan  answer'd,  "  Look 

Upon  this  child — I  saved  her — must  not  leave 
Her  life  to  chance ;  but  point  me  out  some  nook 

Of  safety,  where  she  less  may  shrink  and  grieve, 

(1)  A  RuuUn  military  order. 


250  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  VIII, 


And  I  am  with  you." — Whereon  Johnson  took 
A  glance  around — and  shrugg'd — andtwitch'dhis 
sleeve 
Andblack  silk  neckcloth — and  replied,  "You 're  right; 
Poor  thing!  what's  to  be  done  ?  I'm  puzzled  quite." 

c. 

Said  Juan — "  Whatsoever  is  to  be 

Done,  I'll  not  quit  her  till  she  seems  secure 

Of  present  life  a  good  deal  more  than  we."  — 
Quoth  Johnson — "  Neither  will  I  quite  ensure; 

But  at  the  least  you  may  die  gloriously." — 
Juan  replied — "  At  least  I  will  endure 

Whate'er  is  to  be  borne — but  not  resign 

This  child,  who  is  parentless,  and  therefore  mine." 

CI. 

Johnson  said — "  Juan,  we've  no  time  to  lose ; 

The  child 's  a  pretty  child — a  very  pretty — 
I  never  saw  such  eyes — but  hark  !  now  choose 

Between  your  fame  and  feehngs,  pride  and  pity ; — 
Hark !  how  the  roar  increases  ! — no  excuse 

Will  serve  when  there  is  plunder  in  a  city  ; — 
I  should  be  loath  to  march  without  you,  but. 
By  God!  we'll  be  too  late  for  the  first  cut." 

oil. 
But  Juan  was  immoveable  ;  until 

Johnson,  who  really  loved  him  in  his  way, 
Pick'd  out  amongst  his  followers  with  some  skill 

Such  as  he  thought  the  least  given  up  to  prey ; 


CANTO  VIII. 


DON    JUAN.  251 


And  swearing  if  the  infant  came  to  ill 

That  they  should  all  be  shot  on  the  next  day ; 
But  if  she  were  deliver'd  safe  and  sound, 
They  should  at  least  have  fifty  rubles  round, 

cm. 
And  all  allowances  besides  of  plunder 

In  fair  proportion  with  their  comrades ; — then 
Juan  consented  to  march  on  through  thunder, 

Which  thinn'd  at  every  step  their  ranks  of  men : 
And  yet  the  rest  rush'd  eagerly — no  wonder. 

For  they  were  heated  by  the  hope  of  gain, 
A  thing  which  happens  every  where  each  day — 
No  hero  trusteth  wholly  to  half  pay. 

CIV. 

And  such  is  victory,  and  such  is  man ! 

At  least  nine  tenths  of  what  we  call  so; — God 
May  have  another  name  for  half  we  scan 

As  human  beings,  or  his  ways  are  odd. 
But  to  our  subject :  a  brave  Tartar  khan — 

Or  "  sultan,"  as  the  author  (to  whose  nod 
In  prose  I  bend  my  humble  verse)  doth  call 
This  chieftain — somehow  would  not  yield  at  all : 

cv. 

But  flank*d  hy  Jive  brave  sons,  (such  is  polygamy, 
That  she  spawns  warriors  by  the  score,  where  none 

Are  prosecuted  for  that  false  crime  bigamy). 
He  never  would  believe  the  city  won 


252  DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  VIII. 


While  courage  clung  but  to  a  single  twig. — Am  I 

Describing  Priam's,  Peleus',  or  Jove's  son  ? 
Neither — but  a  good,  plain,  old,  temperate  man, 
Who  fought  with  his  five  children  in  the  van.(i) 

cvi. 

To  take  him  was  the  point.     The  truly  brave, 

When  they  behold  the  brave  oppress'd  with  odds, 

Are  touch'd  with  a  desire  to  shield  and  save ; — 
A  mixture  of  wild  beasts  and  demi-gods 

Are  they — now  furious  as  the  sweeping  wave. 
Now  moved  with  pity :  even  as  sometimes  nods 

The  rugged  tree  unto  the  summer  wind. 

Compassion  breathes  along  the  savage  mind. 

CVII. 

But  he  would  not  be  tdken^  and  replied 

To  all  the  propositions  of  surrender 
By  mowing  Christians  down  on  every  side. 

As  obstinate  as  Swedish  Charles  at  Bender.  (2) 
His  five  brave  boys  no  less  the  foe  defied ; 

WTiereon  the  Russian  pathos  grew  less  tender, 
As  being  a  virtue,  like  terrestrial  patience, 
Apt  to  wear  out  on  trifling  provocations. 

(1)  ["  Le  sultan  p^rit  dans  Taction  en  brave  homme,  digne  d'un 
meilleur  destin ;  ce  fut  lui  qui  rallia  les  Tares  lorsque  I'ennemi  pen^tra 
dans  le  place  :  ce  sultan,  d'une  valeur  eprouvee,  surpassait  en  generosity 
les  plus  civilises  dc  sa  nation ;  cinq  de  ses  fils  combattaient  a  ses  cot^s,  11 
les  encourageait  par  son  exemple. "  —  //«?.  de  la  N.  R.  torn.  iii.  p.  215.] 

(2)  ["  At  Bender,  after  the  fatal  battle  of  Pultawa,  Charles  gave  a  proof 
of  that  unreasonable  obstinacy,  which  occasioned  all  his  misfortunes  in 
Turkey.  When  advised  to  write  to  the  grand  vizier,  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  Turks,  he  said  it  was  beneath  his  dignity.  The  same 
obstinacy  placed  him  necessarily  at  variance  with  all  the  ministers  of  the 
Porte."  — Voltaire.] 


CAKTOvm.  DON   JUAN.  253 

CVIII. 

And  spite  of  Johnson  and  of  Juan,  who 
Expended  all  their  Eastern  phraseology 

In  begging  him,  for  God's  sake,  just  to  show 
So  much  less  fight  as  might  form  an  apology 

For  them  in  saving  such  a  desperate  foe — 
He  hew'd  away,  like  doctors  of  theology 

When  they  dispute  with  sceptics;  and  with  curses 

Struck  at  his  friends,  as  babies  beat  their  nurses. 


cix. 

Nay,  he  had  wounded,  though  but  slightly,  both 
Juan  and  Johnson ;  whereupon  they  fell. 

The  first  with  sighs,  the  second  with  an  oath, 
Upon  his  angry  sultanship,  pell-mell. 

And  all  around  were  grown  exceeding  wroth 
At  such  a  pertinacious  infidel, 

And  pour'd  upon  him  and  his  sons  like  rain, 

Which  they  resisted  like  a  sandy  plain 


ex. 

That  drinks  and  still  is  dry.    At  last  they  perish'd  — 
His  second  son  was  levell'd  by  a  shot ; 

His  third  was  sabred ;  and  the  fourth,  most  cherish'd 
Of  all  the  five,  on  bayonets  met  his  lot; 

The  fifth,  who,  by  a  Christian  mother  nourish'd, 
Had  been  neglected,  ill-used,  and  what  not. 

Because  deform'd,  yet  died  all  game  and  bottom, 

To  save  a  sire  who  blush'd  that  he  begot  him. 


254<  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  VIII. 

CXI. 

The  eldest  was  a  true  and  tameless  Tartar, 

As  great  a  scorner  of  the  Nazarene 
As  ever  Mahomet  pick'd  out  for  a  martyr, 

Who  only  saw  the  black-eyed  girls  in  green. 
Who  make  the  beds  of  those  who  won't  take  quarter 

On  earth,  in  Paradise ;  and  when  once  seen, 
Those  houris,  like  all  other  pretty  creatures^ 
Do  just  whate'er  they  please,  by  dint  of  features. 


CXII. 

And  what  they  pleased  to  do  with  the  young  khan 
In  heaven  I  know  not,  nor  pretend  to  guess ; 

But  doubtless  they  prefer  a  fine  young  man 
To  tough  old  heroes,  and  can  do  no  less ; 

And  that 's  the  cause  no  doubt  why,  if  we  scan 
A  field  of  battle's  ghastly  wilderness. 

For  one  rough,  weather-beaten,  veteran  body, 

You'll  find  ten  thousand  handsome  coxcombs  bloody. 


CXIII, 

Your  houris  also  have  a  natural  pleasure 
In  lopping  off  your  lately  married  men, 

Before  the  bridal  hours  have  danced  their  measure. 
And  the  sad,  second  moon  grows  dim  again. 

Or  dull  repentance  hath  had  dreary  leisure 
To  wis-h  him  back  a  bachelor  now  and  then. 

And  thus  your  houri  (it  may  be)  disputes 

Of  these  brief  blossoms  the  immediate  fruits. 


CAKTOviii.  DON   JUAN.  255 

CXIV. 

Thus  the  young  khan,  with  houris  in  his  sight, 
Thought  not  upon  the  charms  of  four  young  brides, 

But  bravely  rush'd  on  his  first  heavenly  night. 
In  short,  howe'er  our  better  faith  derides, 

These  black-eyed  virgins  make  the  Moslems  fight, 
As   though   there  were   one   heaven    and   none 
besides  — 

Whereas,  if  all  be  true  we  hear  of  heaven 

And  hell,  there  must  at  least  be  six  or  seven. 


cxv. 
So  fully  flash'd  the  phantom  on  his  eyes, 

That  when  the  very  lance  was  in  his  heart, 
He  shouted  "  Allah  ! "  and  saw  Paradise 

With  all  its  veil  of  mystery  drawn  apart, 
And  bright  eternity  without  disguise 

On  his  soul,  like  a  ceaseless  sunrise,  dart: — 
With  prophets,  houris,  angels,  saints,  descried 
In  one  voluptuous  blaze, — and  then  he  died: 


cxvi. 
But  with  a  heavenly  rapture  on  his  face, 

The  good  old  khan,  who  long  had  ceased  to  see 
Houris,  or  aught  except  his  florid  race 

Wlio  grew  like  cedars  round  him  gloriously — 
When  he  beheld  his  latest  hero  grace 

The  earth,  which  he  became  like  a  fell'd  tree. 
Paused  for  a  moment  from  the  fight,  and  cast 
A  glance  on  that  slain  son,  his  first  and  last. 


256  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  VIII. 


CXVII. 

The  soldiers,  who  beheld  him  drop  his  point, 
Stopp'd  as  if  once  more  willing  to  concede 

Quarter,  in  case  he  bade  them  not  "  aroynt ! " 
As  he  before  had  done.     He  did  not  heed 

Their  pause  nor  signs :  his  heart  was  out  of  joint, 
And  shook  (till  now  unshaken)  like  a  reed, 

As  he  look'd  down  upon  his  children  gone, 

And  felt — though  done  with  life — he  was  alone.  (^) 

CXVIII. 

But  'twas  a  transient  tremor: — with  a  spring  ] 
Upon  the  Russian  steel  his  breast  he  flung, 

As  carelessly  as  hurls  the  moth  her  wing 

Against  the  light  wherein  she  dies :  he  clung 

Closer,  that  all  the  deadlier  they  might  wring. 
Unto  the  bayonets  which  had  pierced  his  young ; 

And  throwing  back  a  dim  look  on  his  sons. 

In  one  wide  wound  pour'd  forth  his  soul  at  once. 

CXIX. 

'Tis  strange  enough — the  rough,  tough  soldiers,  who 
Spared  neither  sex  nor  age  in  their  career 

Of  carnage,  when  this  old  man  was  pierced  through, 
And  lay  before  them  with  his  children  near, 

Touch'd  by  the  heroism  of  him  they  slew. 
Were  melted  for  a  moment ;  though  no  tear 

Flow'd  from  their  bloodshot  eyes,  all  red  with  strife,.^ 

They  honour'd  such  determined  scorn  of  life.         « 

(1)  "  Ces  cinq  fils  furent  tous  tufes  sous  ces  yeux :  il  ne  cessa  point  de  se 
battre,  repondit  par  des  coups  de  sabre  aux  propositions  de  se  rendre,  et 
ne  fut  atteint  du  coup  mortel  qu'  aprfes  avoir  abattu  de  sa  main  beaucoup 
de  Kozaks  des  plus  acharnes  h.  sa  prise;  le  reste  de  sa  troupe  fut 
TaasssiCiL"— Hist,  de  la  N.B.  p.  215.] 


CANTO  viii.  DON   JUAN.  257 

cxx. 

But  the  stone  bastion  still  kept  up  its  fire, 
Where  the  chief  pacha  calmly  held  his  post : 

Some  twenty  times  he  made  the  Russ  retire, 
And  baffled  the  assaults  of  all  their  host ; 

At  length  he  condescended  to  enquire 
If  yet  the  city's  rest  were  won  or  lost ; 

And  being  told  the  latter,  sent  a  bey 

To  answer  Ribas'  summons  to  give  way.  (i) 

CXXI. 

In  the  mean  time,  cross-legg'd^  with  great  sang-froid, 
Among  the  scorching  ruins  he  sat  smoking 

Tobacco  on  a  little  carpet; — Troy 

Saw  nothing  like  the  scene  around;  —  yet  looking 

With  martial  stoicism,  nought  seem'd  to  annoy 
His  stern  philosophy ;  but  gently  stroking 

His  beard,  he  pufTd  his  pipe's  ambrosial  gales, 

As  if  he  had  three  lives,  as  well  as  tails.  ('^) 

cxxir. 
The  town  was  taken — whether  he  might  yield 

Himself  or  bastion,  little  matter'd  now : 
His  stubborn  valour  was  no  future  shield, 

Ismail's  no  more  !     The  crescent's  silver  bow 

(1)  ["  Quoique  les  Rusge«  f  ussent  rt'pandus  dans  la  ville,  le  bastion  de 
pi*rre  r^istait  encore :    il  etait  d^fendu  par  un  vieillard,  pacha  k  trois 

ie«,  et  commandant  les  forces  reunics  a  Ixmaol.    On  lui  proposa  une 
•  ilation  ;  il  demanda  si  le  reste  de  la  ville  ^tait  conqiiig;  sur  cette 
,  .ii»e,  il  autorisa  queiques-uns  de  ces  officiers  k  capituler  avec  M.  de 
Hiba*."—  Hitt.  tU- la  N.  It.  p.  215.] 

(2)  [**  Pendant  ce  colloquc,  11  rcsta  ^tendu  sur  des  tapis  places  sur  les 
mine*  de  U  fortereMC,  fumant  sa  pipe  avec  la  meme  tranquillity  et  la 
tai-me  indifference  que  s'il  eCJt  *ti  ctranger  Ji  tout  ce  qui  «e  passait."  — 
"■-1   p.  215.] 

VOL.  XVI.  S 


258  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  viir. 


Sunk,  and  the  crimson  cross  glared  o'er  the  field, 

But  red  with  no  redeeming  gore :  the  glow 
Of  burning  streets,  like  moonlight  on  the  water, 
Was  imaged  back  in  blood,  the  sea  of  slaughter. 


CXXIII. 

All  that  the  mind  would  shrink  from  of  excesses ; 

All  that  the  body  perpetrates  of  bad ; 
All  that  we  read,  hear,  dream,  of  man's  distresses ; 

All  that  the  devil  would  do  if  run  stark  mad ; 
All  that  defies  the  worst  which  pen  expresses  ; 

All  by  which  hell  is  peopled,  or  as  sad 
As  hell — mere  mortals  who  their  power  abuse— ^if 
Was  here  (as  heretofore  and  since)  let  loose.  (•) 


\ 


(1)  [No  man  could  describe,  nor,  if  it  were  possible,  could  humanity 
bear  the  recital  of,  the  horrors  which  ensued.  The  ferocious  victors,  in- 
stead of  being  struck  with  admiration  or  respect  by  the  noble  defence  of 
the  brave  garrison,  were  so  enraged  at  the  great  slaughter  of  their  fellows 
which  had  taken  place,  that  no  bounds  could  be  prescribed  to  the  excess  of 
their  fixrj',  nor  did  it  seem  that  any  amount  of  destruction,  or  any  quantity 
of  human  blood,  could  satiate  their  revenge.  The  undistinguished  carnage 
which  then  took  place  was  rendered  more  dreadful  by  the  continual  heavy 
firing,  the  darkness  of  the  night,  the  groans  of  the  dying,  and  the  lament- 
able shrieks  of  the  women  and  children.  All  order  and  command  seem  to 
have  been  entirely  at  an  end  during  the  horrors  of  that  terrible  night :  the 
officers  could  neither  restrain  the  slaughter,  nor  prevent  the  general  plun- 
der,  made  by  the  lawless  and  ferocious  soldiers.  Thousands  of  the  Turks, 
incapable  of  enduring  the  sight  of  the  horrid  scenes  of  destruction  in  which 
all  that  was  dear  to  them  was  involved,  rushed  desperately  upon  the 
bayonets  of  the  enemy,  in  order  to  shorten  their  misery  ;  while  those  who 
could  reach  the  Danube,  threw  themselves  headlong  into  it  for  the  same 
purpose.  The  streets  and  passages  were  so  choked  by  the  heaps  of  dead  and 
dying  bodies  which  lay  in  them,  as  considerably  to  impede  the  progress  of 
the  victors  in  their  eager  search  for  plunder.  —  Dr.  Laurence,  in  Ann . 
Reg.  for  11^1.1 


CANTO  VIII.  DON   JUAN.  259 

CXXIV. 

If  here  and  there  some  transient  trait  of  pity 
Was  shown,  and  some  more  noble  heart  broke 
through 

Its  bloody  bond,  and  saved,  perhaps,  some  pretty 
Child,  or  an  aged,  helpless  man  or  two — 

What  's  this  in  one  annihilated  city, 

WTiere  thousand  loves,  and  ties,  and  duties  grow  ? 

Cockneys  of  London  !  Muscadins  of  Paris  I 

Just  ponder  what  a  pious  pastime  war  is. 

cxxv. 
Think  how  the  joys  of  reading  a  Gazette 

Are  purchased  by  all  agonies  and  crimes : 
Or  if  these  do  not  move  you,  don't  forget 

Such  doom  may  be  your  own  in  after-times. 
Meantime  the  Taxes,  Castlereagh,  and  Debt, 

Are  hints  as  good  as  sermons,  or  as  rhymes. 
Read  your  own  hearts  and  Ireland's  present  story, 
Tlien  feed  her  famine  fat  with  Wellesley's  glory. 

cxxvi. 
But  still  there  is  unto  a  patriot  nation. 

Which  loves  so  well  its  country  and  its  king, 
A  subject  of  sublimest  exultation  — 

Bear  it,  ye  Muses,  on  your  brightest  wing ! 
Howe'er  the  mighty  locust,  Desolation, 

Strip  your  green  fields,  and  to  your  harvests  cling, 
Gaunt  famine  never  shall  approach  the  throne — 
Though  Ireland  starve,  great  George  weighs  twenty 
stone. 

s  2 


260  DON   JUAN, 


CANTO  VIII. 


CXXVII. 

But  let  me  put  an  end  unto  my  theme : 

There  was  an  end  of  Ismail — hapless  town ! 

Far  flash'd  her  burning  towers  o'er  Danube's  stream, 
And  redly  ran  his  blushing  waters  down. 

The  horrid  war-whoop  and  the  shriller  scream 
Rose  still ;  but  fainter  were  the  thunders  grown : 

Of  forty  thousand  who  had  mann'd  the  wall, 

Some   hundreds   breathed  —  the   rest  were    silent 
all!(') 

CXXVIII. 

In  one  thing  ne'ertheless  'tis  fit  to  praise 
The  Russian  army  upon  this  occasion, 

A  virtue  much  in  fashion  now-a-days. 

And  therefore  worthy  of  commemoration : 

The  topic 's  tender,  so  shall  be  my  phrase  — 

Perhaps  the  season's  chill,  and  their  long  station 

In  winter's  depth,  or  want  of  rest  and  victual, 

Had  made  them  chaste  ; — they  ravish'd  very  little. 


(1)  ["  On  ^gorgea  indistinctement,  on  saccagea  la  place  ;  et  la  rage  du 
vainqueur  se  repandit  comme  un  torrent  furieux  qui  a  renvers^  les  digue* 
qui  le  r^tenaient :  personne  obtint  de  grace,  et  trente  huit  mille  huit  cent 
soisante  Turcs  p^rirent  dans  cette  journ^e  de  sang."  —  Hist,  de  la  Nouv, 
Russie,  torn.  iii.  p.  214. 

*'  Among  those  who  fell  were  a  number  of  the  bravest,  most  expe- 
rienced, and  renowned  commanders  in  the  Turkish  armies.  Six  or  seven 
Tartar  princes,  of  the  illustrious  line  of  Gherai,  likewise  perished  with  the 
rest.  A  few  hundreds  of  prisoners  were  preserved,  to  serve  as  melancholy 
recorders  and  witnesses  of  the  destruction  which  they  had  beheld.  In 
consequence  of  an  accurate  enquiry  set  on  foot  by  an  Ottoman  commander 
of  rank,  it  appears  that  the  whole  number  of  Turks,  who  perished  in  the 
slaughter  of  Ismail,  amounted  to  thirty-eight  thousand  eight  hundred  and 
sixteen."  — Dr.  Laurence.] 


ro  v.ii.  DON   JUAN.  261 

CXXIX. 

Much  did  they  slay,  more  plunder,  and  no  less 
Might  here  and  there  occur  some  violation 

111  the  other  line; — but  not  to  such  excess 
As  when  the  French,  that  dissipated  nation, 

Take  towns  by  storm :  no  causes  can  I  guess, 
Except  cold  weather  and  commiseration ; 

But  all  the  ladies,  save  some  twenty  score, 

Were  almost  as  much  virgins  as  before. 

cxxx. 

Some  odd  mistakes,  too,  happen'd  in  the  dark. 
Which  show'd  a  want  of  lanterns,  or  of  taste  — 

Jndeed  the  smoke  was  such  they  scarce  could  mark 
Their  friends  from  foes, — besides  such  things  from 
haste 

Occur,  though  rarely,  when  there  is  a  spark 
Of  light  to  save  the  venerably  chaste : 

But  six  old  damsels,  each  of  seventy  years. 

Were  all  deflower'd  by  different  grenadiers. 

CXXXI. 

But  on  the  whole  their  continence  was  great ; 

So  that  some  disappointment  there  ensued 
To  those  who  had  felt  the  inconvenient  state 

Of  "  single  blessedness,"  and  thought  it  good 
(Since  it  was  not  their  fault,  but  only  fate. 

To  bear  these  crosses)  for  each  waning  prude 
To  make  a  Roman  sort  of  Sabine  wedding, 
Without  the  expense  and  the  suspense  of  bedding. 

s  3 


262  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  Tin. 


CXXXIT. 

Some  voices  of  the  buxom  middle-aged 
Were  also  heard  to  wonder  in  the  din 

(Widows  of  forty  were  these  birds  long  caged) 
"  Wherefore  the  ravishing  did  not  begin  ! " 

But  while  the  thirst  for  gore  and  plunder  raged, 
There  was  small  leisure  for  superfluous  sin ; 

But  whether  they  escaped  or  no,  lies  hid 

In  darkness — I  can  only  hope  they  did. 

CXXXIII. 

Suwarrow  now  was  conqueror  —  a  match 

For  Timour  or  for  Zinghis  in  his  trade,     [thatch 

While  mosques  and  streets,  beneath  his  eyes,  like 
Blazed,  and  the  cannon's  roar  was  scarce  allay 'd, 

With  bloody  hands  he  wrote  his  first  despatch ; 
And  here  exactly  follows  what  he  said: — 

"  Glory  to  God  and  to  the  Empress ! "  {Powers 

Eternal!  such  names  mingled!)  "  Ismail's  ours."(') 

cxxxiv. 

Methinks  these  are  the  most  tremendous  words. 
Since  "  Mene,  Mene,  Tekel,"  and  "  Upharsin," 

Which  hands  or  pens  have  ever  traced  of  swords. 
Heaven  help  me  I  I'm  but  little  of  a  parson : 

What  Daniel  read  was  short-hand  of  the  Lord's, 
Severe,  sublime ;  the  prophet  wrote  no  farce  on 

The  fate  of  nations; — but  this  Russ  so  witty 

Could  rhyme,  like  Nero,  o'er  a  burning  city.(-) 

(1)  In  the  original  Russian  — 

"  Slava  bogu !  slava  vam ! 
Krepost  Vzala  y  ia  tarn ;" 
a  kind  of  couplet ;  for  he  was  a  poet 

(2)  [Mr.  Tweddell,  who  met  with  Suwarrow  in  the  Ukraine,  says  —  "  He 


CAKTO  VIIU 


DON   JUAN.  263 


cxxxv. 

He  wrote  this  Polar  melody,  and  set  it,' 
Duly  accompanied  by  shrieks  and  groans, 

Which  few  will  sing,  I  trust,  but  none  forget  it  — 
For  I  will  teach,  if  possible,  the  stones 

To  rise  against  earth's  tyrants.     Never  let  it 
Be  said  that  we  still  truckle  unto  thrones; — 

But  ye — our  children's  children  !  think  how  we 

Show'd  wJiat  tJuiigs  were  before  the  world  was  free ! 


CXXXVI. 

Tliat  hour  is  not  for  us,  but  'tis  for  you : 
And  as,  in  the  great  joy  of  your  millennium, 

You  hardly  will  believe  such  things  were  true 
As  now  occur,  I  thought  that  I  would  pen  you  'em ; 

But  may  their  very  memory  perish  too  !  — 

Yet  if  perchance  remember'd,  still  disdain  you  'em 

More  than  you  scorn  the  savages  of  yore. 

Who  painted  their  hare  limbs,  but  not  with  gore. 


M  •  mort  extraordinary  character.  He  dines  every  morning  about 
nine.  He  sleeps  almost  naked ;  he  affects  a  perfect  indifference  to  heat 
and  cold  ;  and  quits  his  chamber,  which  approaches  to  suffocation,  in  order 
to  review  his  troops,  in  a  thin  linen  jacket,  while  the  thermometer  of  Reau. 
Bur  is  at  ten  degrees  below  freezing.  His  manners  correspond  with  his 
humours.  I  dined  with  him  this  morning.  He  cried  to  me  across  the  table, 
—  Tweddell !'  (he  generally  addressed  me  by  my  surname,  without  addition) 
'  the  French  have  taken  Portsmouth  —  1  have  just  received  a  courier  from 
England.  The  King  is  in  the  Tower;  and  Sheridan,  Protector."  A  great 
deal  of  his  whimsical  manner  is  affected  :  he  finds  that  it  f  uits  his  troops, 
and  the  peofile  he  has  to  deal  with.  I  asked  him,  if,  after  the  mafsacre  at 
Ismail,  he  was  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  conduct  of  the  day.  He  said  b« 
went  home  and  wept  in  his  imV  —  Rrmaim,  p.  135.] 
S   4 


264  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  VIII. 

cxxxvir. 
And  when  you  hear  historians  talk  of  thrones, 

And  those  that  sate  upon  them,  let  it  be 
As  we  now  gaze  upon  the  mammoth's  bones,  M 

And  wonder  what  old  world  such  things  could  see, 
Or  hieroglyphics  on  Egyptian  stones, 

The  pleasant  riddles  of  futurity — 
Guessing  at  what  shall  happily  be  hid, 
As  the  real  purpose  of  a  pyramid. 

.    CXXXVIII. 

Reader  I  I  have  kept  my  word,  —  at  least  so  far 
As  the  first  Canto  promised.     You  have  now 

Had  sketches  of  love,  tempest,  travel,  war — 
All  very  accurate,  you  must  allow. 

And  epic,  if  plain  truth  should  prove  no  bar ; 
For  I  have  drawn  much  less  with  a  long  bow 

Than  my  forerunners.     Carelessly  I  sing. 

But  Phoebus  lends  me  now  and  then  a  string, 

cxxxix. 
With  which  I  still  can  harp,  and  carp,  and  fiddle. 

What  farther  hath  befallen  or  may  befall 
The  hero  of  this  grand  poetic  riddle, 

I  by  and  by  may  tell  you,  if  at  all : 
But  now  I  choose  to  break  off  in  the  middle, 

Worn  out  with  battering  Ismail's  stubborn  wall, 
While  Juan  is  sent  off  with  the  despatch. 
For  which  all  Petersburgh  is  on  the  watch,  (i) 

(1)  ["  The  ostentatious  and  fantastic  display  of  the  bloody  trophies  taken 
at  Ismail,  which  were  some  time  after  exhibited  at  Petersburgh,  was 
unworthy  the  greatness,  the  magnanimity,  and  the  high  character  of  the 


^ro  vui.  DON    JUAN.  265 

CXL. 

This  special  honour  was  conferr'd,  because 

He  had  behaved  with  courage  and  humanity — 

W'hicli  last  men  Hke,  when  they  have  time  to  pause 
From  their  ferocities  produced  by  vanity. 

His  Httle  captive  gain'd  him  some  applause 
For  saving  her  amidst  the  wild  insanity 

Of  carnage, — and  I  think  he  was  more  glad  in  her 

Safety,  than  his  new  order  of  St.  Vladimir. 

CXLI. 

The  Moslem  orphan  went  with  her  protector, 
For  she  was  homeless,  houseless,  helpless ;  all 

Her  friends,  like  the  sad  family  of  Hector, (') 
Had  perish'd  in  the  field  or  by  the  wall : 

Her  very  place  of  birth  was  but  a  spectre 

Of  what  it  had  been  ;  there  the  Muezzin's  call(-) 

To  prayer  was  heard  no  more ! — and  Juan  wept. 

And  made  a  vow  to  shield  her,  which  he  kept.("^) 


Empress  Catherine.  The  tragedy  should  have  closed  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  last  act  on  the  spot  It  was  attributed  more  to  a  desire  of  gratifying 
the  excessive  vanity  of  Prince  Potemkin,  which  was  not  easily  satiated,  than 
that  of  the  empress  herself"—  Da.  Laurence.] 

(1)  See  Iliad,  b.  xxiL 

(2)  [Seean/e,  Vol  VIII.  p.  91.] 

(3)  [Cantos  VI.,  VII.,  and  VIII.,  if  we  except  some  parts  of  the  assault 
of  Ismail,  contain  a  considerably  less  proportion  of  the  higher  class  of 
poetry,  than  was  to  be  found  in  those  which  preceded  them.  But  in  the 
keen  and  pervading  satire,  the  bitter  and  biting  irony,  which  constitute  the 
peculiar  forte  of  Lord  Byron,  we  perceive  no  falling  off  in  these  present 
cantos.  Nor  are  they  deficient  in  that  vein  of  playful  humour,  and  that 
felicitous  transition  "  from  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe,"  so  con- 
t|ricuous  in  their  predecessors.  The  execution,  on  the  whole,  we  think 
quite  equal  to  that  displayed  in  the  earlier  parts  of  the  poem.  —  CampbeluI 


DON    JUAN, 


CANTO  THE  NINTH 


[Cantos  IX.,  X.,  and  XI.  were  written  at  Pisa,  and  published 
in  London,  by  Mr.  John  Hunt,  in  August,  1823.  We  ex- 
tract the  following  specimens  of  contemporary  criticism  :  — 

"  That  there  is  a  great  deal  of  what  is  objectionable  in  these  three  cantos, 
who  can  deny  ?  What  can  be  more  so  than  to  attack  the  King,  with  low, 
vile,  personal  buffooneries  —  bottomed  in  utter  falsehood,  and  expressed  in 
crawling  malice?  What  can  be  more  exquisitely  worthy  of  contempt 
than  the  savage  imbecility  of  these  eternal  tirades  against  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  ?  What  more  pitiable  than  the  state  of  mind  that  can  find  any 
gratification  in  calling  such  a  man  as  Southey  by  nicknames  that  one  would 
be  ashamed  of  applying  to  a  coal-heaver  ?  What  can  be  so  abject  as  this 
eternal  trampling  upon  the  dust  of  Castlereagh  ?  Lord  Byron  ought  to 
know  that  all  men,  of  all  parties,  unite  in  regarding  all  these  things,  but 
especially  the  first  and  the  last,  as  insults  to  themselves,  and  as  most  miser- 
able degradations  of  him. 

"  But  still  Don  Juan  is,  without  exception,  the  first  of  Lord  Byron's 
works.  It  is  by  far  the  most  original  in  point  of  conception.  It  is 
decidedly  original  in  point  of  tone.  It  contains  the  finest  specimens  of 
serious  poetry  he  has  ever  written  ;  and  it  contains  the  finest  specimens  of 
ludicrous  poetry  that  our  age  has  witnessed.  Frere  may  have  written  the 
stanza  earlier ;  he  may  have  written  it  more  carefully,  more  musically,  if 
you  will ;  but  what  is  he  to  Byron  ?  Where  is  the  sweep,  the  pith,  the 
soaring  pinion,  the  lavish  luxury  of  genius  revelling  in  strength.  No : 
no :  Don  Juan,  say  the  canting  world  what  it  will,  is  destined  to  hold  a 
permanent  rank  in  the  literature  of  our  country.  It  will  always  be  referred 
to  as  furnishing  the  most  powerful  picture  of  that  vein  of  thought  (no 
matter  how  false  and  bad)  which  distinguishes  a  great  portion  of  the  think- 
ing people  of  our  time." '  —  Blackwood.] 


269 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO    THE    NINTH. 


Oh,  Wellington  !  (or  "  Vilainton"(^) — for  Fame 
Sounds  the  heroic  syllables  both  ways ; 

France  could  not  even  conquer  your  great  name, 
But  punn'd  it  down  to  this  facetious  phrase — 

Beating  or  beaten  she  will  laugh  the  same,) 

You  have  obtain'd  great  pensions  and  much  praise  : 

Glory  like  yours  should  any  dare  gainsay, 

Humanity  would  rise,  and  thunder  "  Nay  ! "  (2) 

II. 
I  don't  think  that  you  used  Kinnaird  quite  well 
In  Marinet's  affair  (•^)  —  in  fact,  'twas  shabby, 
iid  like  some  other  things  won't  do  to  tell 
Upon  your  tomb  in  Westminster's  old  abbty. 

(1)  ["  M.  de  Vilainton  a  tout  pris. 

Point  d'argcnt  dans  la  ville  de  Paris,"  &c.  —  De  Beranceb.  J 

(2)  Query  —  Ney  f  —  Printer's  Devil 

11  [The  late  Lord  Kinnaird  was  received  in  Paris,  in  1S14,  with  great 
lity  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  the  royal  family  of  France,  but 
.ic  had  hinueir  presented  to  Buonaparte  during  the  hundred  days,  and 
intrigucti  on  with  those  of  that  faction,  in  spite  of  the  Duke's  remon. 
strances,  until  the  re.re«tored  government  ordered  him  out  of  the  French 
territory  in  ISlfiL  In  1S17,  he  became  acquainted  at  Brussels  with  one 
Marinil,  an  adventurer  mixed  up  in  a  conspiracy  to  assassinate  the  Duke 
In  the  streets  of  Paris.  This  fellow  at  first  promised  to  discover  the  man 
who  actually  shot  at  his  Grace,  but,  on  reaching  Paris,  shuffled  and  would 
•ay  nothing ;  and  Lord  Kinnaird'*  avowed  cause  of  complaint  against  the 


270  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

Upon  the  rest  'tis  not  worth  while  to  dwell, 

Such  tales  being  for  the  tea-hours  of  some  tabby ; 
But  though  your  years  as  man  tend  fast  to  zero, 
In  fact  your  grace  is  still  but  a  young  hero, 

III. 
Though  Britain  owes  (and  pays  you  too)  so  much, 

Yet  Europe  doubtless  owes  you  greatly  more : 
You  have  repair'd  Legitimacy's  crutch, 

A  prop  not  quite  so  certain  as  before  : 
The  Spanish,  and  the  French,  as  well  as  Dutch, 

Have  seen,  and  felt,  how  strongly  you  restore  ; 
And  Waterloo  has  made  the  world  your  debtor 
(I  wish  your  bards  would  sing  it  rather  better). 

IV. 

You  are  "the  best  of  cut-throats  :"(i)  —  do  not  start; 

The  phrase  is  Shakspeare's,  and  not  misapplied  : — 
War 's  a  brain-spattering,  windpipe-slitting  art. 

Unless  her  cause  by  right  be  sanctified. 
If  you  have  acted  once  a  generous  part. 

The  world,  not  the  world's  masters,  will  decide, 
And  I  shall  be  delighted  to  learn  who. 
Save  you  and  yours,  have  gain'd  by  Waterloo  ? 

V. 

I  am  no  flatterer — you've  supp'd  full  of  flattery: 
They  say  you  like  it  too  —  'tis  no  great  wonder. 

He  whose  whole  life  has  been  assault  and  battery. 
At  last  may  get  a  little  tired  of  thunder ; 


Duke  was,  that  he  did  not  protect  this  creature  from  the  French  police, 
who,  not  doubting  that  he  had  been  one  of  the  conspirators  against  his 
Grace's  life,  arrested  him  accordingly.    He  was  tried  along  with  the  actual 
aasassin,  and  both  were  acquitted  by  the  Parisian  jury.  —  E.] 
(1)  ["  Thou  art  the  best  o'  the  cut-throats."—  Macbeth,  act  iil  sc.  iii.] 


sroix.  DON   JUAN.  271 

id  swallowing  eulogy  much  more  than  satire,  he 
May  like  being  praised  for  every  lucky  blunder, 
L-iU'd  "  Saviour  of  the  Nations" — not  yet  saved, 
And  "  Europe's  Liberator" — still  enslaved,  (i) 


VI. 

I  *ve  done.     Now  go  and  dine  from  off  the  plate 
Presented  by  the  Prince  of  the  Brazils, 

And  send  the  sentinel  before  your  gate  (-) 
A  slice  or  two  from  your  luxurious  meals : 

He  fought,  but  has  not  fed  so  well  of  late. 

Some  hunger,  too,  they  say  the  people  feels: — 

Tiiere  is  no  doubt  that  you  deserve  your  ration, 

But  pray  give  back  a  little  to  the  nation. 


VII. 

I  don't  mean  to  reflect  —  a  man  so  great  as 
You,  my  lord  duke !  is  far  above  reflection  : 

The  high  Roman  fashion,  too,  of  Cincinnatus, 
With  modern  history  has  but  small  connection : 

Though  as  an  Irishman  you  love  potatoes. 

You  need  not  take  them  under  your  direction ; 

Vnd  half  a  million  for  your  Sabine  farm 

Is  rather  dear!  —  I'm  sure  I  mean  no  harm. 


(1)  Vide  Speeches  in  Parliament,  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo. 

(2)  **  I  at  thij  time  got  a  post,  being  for  fatigue,  with  four  others.  We 
were  sent  to  break  biscuit,  and  make  a  mess  for  Lord  Wellington's  hounds. 
I  was  very  hungry,  and  thought  it  a  good  job  at  the  time,  as  we  got  our  own 
fill  while  we  broke  the  biscuit,—  a  thing  I  had  not  got  for  some  days.  When 
thus  engaged,  the  Prodigal  Son  was  never  once  out  of  my  mind ;  and  I 
•ighed,  as  I  fed  the  dogs,  over  my  humble  situation  and  my  ruined  hope*." 
—  Journal  of  a  Soldier  oj  the  lUt  Regiment  during  the  IVar  in  Spain. 


272  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

VIII. 

Great  men  have  always  scorn'd  great  recompenses : 
Epaminondas  saved  his  Thebes,  and  died, 

Not  leaving  even  his  funeral  expenses :  (') 

George  Washington  had  thanks  and  nought  beside, 

Except  the  all-cloudless  glory  (which  few  men's  is) 
To  free  his  country :  Pitt  too  had  his  pride, 

And  as  a  high-soul'd  minister  of  state  is 

Renown'd  for  ruining  Great  Britain  gratis.  (2) 

IX. 

Never  had  mortal  man  such  opportunity, 
Except  Napoleon,  or  abused  it  more : 

You  might  have  freed  fallen  Europe  from  the  unity 
Of  tyrants,  and  been  blest  from  shore  to  shore : 

And  now — what  is  your  fame  ?    Shall  the  Muse 
tune  it  ye  ? 
Now — that  the  rabble's  first  vain  shouts  are  o'er? 

Go !  hear  it  in  your  famish'd  country's  cries  ! 

Behold  the  world  I  and  curse  your  victories  I 

X. 

As  these  new  cantos  touch  on  warlike  feats, 

To  you  the  unflattering  Muse  deigns  to  inscribe 

Truths,  that  you  will  not  read  in  the  Gazettes, 
But  which  'tis  time  to  teach  the  hireling  tribe 

(1)  ["  In  other  illustrious  men  you  will  observe  that  each  possessed  some 
one  shining  quality,  which  was  the  foundation  of  his  fame :  in  Epami- 
nondas, all  the  virtues  are  found  united ;  force  of  body,  eloquence  of  ex- 
pression, vigour  of  mind,  contempt  of  riches."  —  Dion.  Sic.  lib.  xv.] 

(2)  [Those  persons  who  represent  our  statesmen  as  living  and  fattening 
upon  the  public  spoil,  must  either  be  grossly  ignorant,  or  wicked  enough  to 
employ  arguments  which  they  know  to  be  false  The  emoluments  of  office, 
almost  in  every  department  of  the  state,  and  especially  in  all  the  highest, 
are  notoriously  inadequate  to  the  expenditure  which  the  situation  requires. 
Mr.  Pitt,  who  was  no  gambler,  no  prodigal,  and  too  much  a  man  of  busi- 
ness to  have  expensive  habits  of  any  kind,  died  in  debt;  and  the  nation 
discharged  his  debts,  not  less  as  a  mark  of  respect,  than  as  an  act  of  jus- 
tice.—  SOLTHEY.] 


CAUTOii.  DON  JUAN.  273 

Who  fatten  on  their  country's  gore,  and  debts, 

Mitst  be  recited,  and — without  a  bribe. 
You  did  great  things  ;  but  not  being  great  in  mind, 
Have  left  undone  the  greatest — and  mankind. 


Death  laughs — Go  ponder  o'er  the  skeleton 
With  which  men  image  out  the  unknown  thing 

That  hides  the  past  world,  like  to  a  set  sun 

Wliich  still  elsewhere  may  rouse  a  brighter  spring — 

Death  laughs  at  all  you  weep  for  : — look  upon 
This  hourly  dread  of  all  I  whose  threaten  d  sting 

Turns  life  to  terror,  even  though  in  its  sheath : 

Mark !  how  its  lipless  mouth  grins  without  breath  I 

XII. 

Mark !  how  it  laughs  and  scorns  at  all  you  are  ! 

And  yet  was  what  you  are  :  from  ear  to  ear 
It  laughs  not — there  is  now  no  fleshy  bar 

So  caird ;  the  Antic  long  hath  ceased  to  hear, 
But  still  he  smiles  ;  and  whether  near  or  far 

He  strips  from  man  that  mantle  (far  more  dear 
Than  even  the  tailor's),  his  incarnate  skin, 
WTiite,  black,  or  copper — the  dead  bones  will  grin. 

XIII. 

And  thus  Death  laughs, — it  is  sad  merriment, 
But  still  it  w  so ;  and  with  such  example 

Why  should  not  Life  be  equally  content 
With  his  superior,  in  a  smile  to  trample 

VOL.   XVI.  T 


274<  DON   JUAN. 


CAKTO  IX. 


Upon  the  nothings  which  are  daily  spent 

Like  bubbles  on  an  ocean  much  less  ample 
Than  the  eternal  deluge,  which  devours 
Suns  as  rays — worlds  like  atoms — years  like  hours  ? 

XIV. 

"  To  be,  or  not  to  be  ?  that  is  the  question," 

Says  Shakspeare,  who  just  now  is  much  in  fashion. 

I  am  neither  Alexander  nor  Hephaestion, 

Nor  ever  had  for  abstract  fame  much  passion ; 

But  would  much  rather  have  a  sound  digestion 
Than  Buonaparte's  cancer: — could  I  dash  on 

Through  fifty  victories  to  shame  or  fame, 

Without  a  stomach  — what  were  a  good  name  ? 

XV. 

"  Oh  dura  ilia  messorum  !"(i)  —  "  Oh 
Ye  rigid  guts  of  reapers  ! "  I  translate 

For  the  great  benefit  of  those  who  know 
What  indigestion  is — that  inward  fate 

Which  makes  all  Styx  through  one  small  liver  flow. 
A  peasant's  sweat  is  worth  his  lord's  estate : 

Let  this  one  toil  for  bread — that  rack  for  rent, 

He  who  sleeps  best  may  be  the  most  content. 

XVI. 

"  To  be,  or  not  to  be  ?" — Ere  I  decide, 

I  should  be  glad  to  know  that  which  is  being  9 

Tis  true  we  speculate  both  far  and  wide, 
And  deem,  because  we  see^  we  are  all-seeing: 

(1)  [•*  0,  dura  messorum  ilia  t  "  &c.  —  HoR.] 


CANTO  IX.  DON  JUAN.  275 

For  my  part,  111  enlist  on  neither  side, 

Until  I  see  both  sides  for  once  agreeing. 
For  me,  I  sometimes  think  that  life  is  death, 
Rather  than  life  a  mere  affair  of  breath. 

XVII. 

"  Que  scais-je?"  (,)  was  the  motto  of  Montaigne, 

As  also  of  the  first  academicians ; 
Tliat  all  is  dubious  which  man  may  attain, 

Was  one  of  their  most  favourite  positions. 
There's  no  such  thing  as  certainty,  that's  plain 

As  any  of  Mortality's  conditions ; 
So  little  do  we  know  what  we're  about  in 
This  world,  I  doubt  if  doubt  itself  be  doubting. 

XVIII. 

It  is  a  pleasant  voyage  perhaps  to  float, 
Like  Pyrrho,  (^)  on  a  sea  of  speculation ; 

But  what  if  carrying  sail  capsize  the  boat? 

Your  wise  men  don't  know  much  of  navigation ; 

And  swimming  long  in  the  abyss  of  thought 
Is  apt  to  tire :  a  calm  and  shallow  station 

Well  nigh  the  shore,  where  one  stoops  down  and 
gathers 

Some  pretty  shell,  is  best  for  moderate  bathers. 

XIX. 

"  But  heaven,"  as  Cassio  says,  "  is  above  all  —  (^) 
,       No  more  of  this,  then, — let  us  pray  I"    We  have 

fc 

■^■11)  [See  Biographie  UniTeraelle,  torn.  xxix.  p.  434.3 

^     ^  [Pyrrho,  the  philosopher  of  Eli«,   was  in    continual  suspense  of 
Judgment :  he  doubted  of  every  thing  ;  never  made  any  conclusion  ;  and 
when  he  had  carefully  examined  a  subject,  and  investigated  all  its  points, 
be  concluded  by  still  doubting  of  its  evidence.  —  AtL.  Gel.] 
(3)  See  Othellow 

T    2 


276  DON     JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

Souls  to  save,  since  Eve's  slip  and  Adam's  fall, 
Which  tumbled  all  mankind  into  the  grave, 

Besides  fish,  beasts,  and  birds.     "  The  sparrow's  fall 
Is  special  providence,"  (')  though  how  it  gave 

Offence,  we  know  not ;  probably  it  perch'd 

Upon  the  tree  which  Eve  so  fondly  search'd. 

XX. 

Ob !  ye  immortal  Gods  !  what  is  theogony  ? 

Oh!  thou,  too,  mortal  man  !  what  is  philanthropy  ? 
Oh  !  world,  which  was  and  is,  what  is  cosmogony? 

Some  people  have  accused  me  of  misanthropy  ; 
And  yet  I  know  no  more  than  the  mahogany 

That  forms  this  desk,  of  what  they  mean ;  lykan- 
thropy  (2) 
I  comprehend,  for  without  transformation 
Men  become  wolves  on  any  slight  occasion. 

XXI. 

But  I,  the  mildest,  meekest  of  mankind, 

Like  Moses,  or  Melancthon,  who  have  ne'er 

Done  any  thing  exceedingly  unkind, — 

And  (though  I  could  not  now  and  then  forbear 

Following  the  bent  of  body  or  of  mind) 
Have  always  had  a  tendency  to  spare, — 

Why  do  they  call  me  misanthrope  ?     Because 

They  hate  me,  not  I  them  : — and  here  we'll  pause. 


(1)  t **  We  defy  augury  :  there  is  a  special 

Providence  in  the  fall  of  a  sparrow."  —  Hamlet.'} 

(2)  f"  A  kind  of  madness,  in  which  men  have  the  qualities  of  wild 
beasts."—  Todd.3 


AVTO  IX.  DON   JUAN.  277 

XXII. 

'Tis  time  we  should  proceed  with  our  good  poem, — 

For  I  maintain  that  it  is  really  good, 
Not  only  in  the  body  but  the  proem, 

However  little  both  are  understood 
Just  now, — but  by  and  by  the  Truth  will  show  'em 

Herself  in  her  sublimest  attitude : 
And  till  she  doth,  I  fain  must  be  content 
To  share  her  beauty  and  her  banishment. 


XXIII. 

Our  hero  (and,  I  trust,  kind  reader  !  yours — ) 
Was  left  upon  his  way  to  the  chief  city 

Of  the  immortal  Peter's  polish'd  boors,  [witty. 

WTio  still  have  shown  themselves  more  brave  than 

I  know  its  mighty  empire  now  allures 

Much  flattery — even  Voltaire's,  and  that 's  a  pity. 

For  me,  I  deem  an  absolute  autocrat 

Not  a  barbarian,  but  much  worse  than  that. 


XXIV. 

And  I  will  war,  at  least  in  words  (and — should 
My  chance  so  happen — deeds)  with  all  who  war 

With  Thought; — and  of  Thought's  foes  by  far  most 
Tyrants  and  sycophants  have  been  and  are.   [rude, 

I  know  not  who  may  conquer :  if  I  could 
Have  such  a  prescience,  it  should  be  no  bar 

To  this  my  plain,  sworn,  downright  detestation 

Of  every  despotism  in  every  nation. 
T  3 


278  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

XXV. 

It  is  not  that  I  adulate  the  people : 

Without  me^  there  are  demagogues  enough, 

And  infidels,  to  pull  down  every  steeple, 
And  set  up  in  their  stead  some  proper  stuff. 

Whether  they  may  sow  scepticism  to  reap  hell, 
As  is  the  Christian  dogma  rather  rough, 

I  do  not  know ; — I  wish  men  to  be  free 

As  much  from  mobs  as  kings — from  you  as  me. 

XXVI. 

The  consequence  is,  being  of  no  party, 
I  shall  offend  all  parties  : — never  mind  I 

My  words,  at  least,  are  more  sincere  and  hearty 
Than  if  I  sought  to  sail  before  the  wind. 

He  who  has  nought  to  gain  can  have  small  art :  he 
Who  neither  wishes  to  be  bound  or  bind, 

May  still  expatiate  freely,  as  will  I, 

Nor  give  my  voice  to  slavery's  jackall  cry. 

XXVII. 

Tliat's  an  appropriate  simile,  that  jackall ;  — 
I've  heard  them  in  the  Ephesian  ruins  howl(') 

By  night,  as  do  that  mercenary  pack  all, 

Power's  base  purveyors,  who  for  pickings  prowl. 

And  scent  the  prey  their  masters  would  attack  all. 
However,  the  poor  jackalls  are  less  foul 

(As  being  the  brave  lions'  keen  providers) 

Than  human  insects,  catering  for  spiders. 


(1)  In  Greece  I  never  saw  or  heard  these  animals  ;  but  among  the  ruins 
of  Ephesus  I  have  heard  them  by  hundreds.    [See  ariU,  VoL  X.  p.  14SJ 


CANTO  IX. 


DON   JUAN.  "STd 


XXVIII. 

Raise  but  an  arm  I  *twill  brush  their  web  away, 
And  without  that^  their  poison  and  their  claws 

Are  useless.     Mind,  good  people !  what  I  say — 
(Or  rather  peoples) — go  oil  without  pause  ! 

The  web  of  these  tarantulas  each  day 

Increases,  till  you  shall  make  common  cause : 

None,  save  the  Spanish  fly  and  Attic  bee, 

As  yet  are  strongly  stinging  to  be  free. 


XXIX. 

Don  Juan,  who  had  shone  in  the  late  slaughter, 
Was  left  upon  his  way  with  the  despatch. 

Where  blood  was  talk'd  of  as  we  would  of  water ; 
And  carcasses  that  lay  as  thick  as  thatch 

O'er  silenced  cities,  merely  served  to  flatter 

Fair  Catherine's  pastime — who  look'd  on  the  match 

Between  these  nations  as  a  main  of  cocks, 

Wherein  she  liked  her  own  to  stand  like  rocks. 


XXX. 

And  there  in  a  kibitka  he  roll'd  on, 

(A  cursed  sort  of  carriage  without  springs. 
Which  on  rough  roads  leaves  scarcely  a  whole  bone,) 

Pondering  on  glory,  chivalry,  and  kings. 
And  orders,  and  on  all  that  he  had  done  — 
And  wishing  that  post-horses  had  the  wings 

Pegasus,  or  at  the  least  post-chaises 
[ad  feathers,  when  a  traveller  on  deep  ways  is. 
T  4- 


280  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

XXXI. 

At  every  jolt — and  they  were  many — still 
He  turn'd  his  eyes  upon  his  little  charge, 

As  if  he  wish'd  that  she  should  fare  less  ill 
Than  he,  in  these  sad  highways  left  at  large 

To  ruts,  and  flints,  and  lovely  Nature's  skill, 
Who  is  no  paviour,  nor  admits  a  barge 

On  her  canals,  where  God  takes  sea  and  land. 

Fishery  and  farm,  both  into  his  own  hand. 

XXXII. 

At  least  he  pays  no  rent,  and  has  best  right 
To  be  the  first  of  what  we  used  to  call 

"  Gentlemen  farmers" — a  race  worn  out  quite, 
Since  lately  there  have  been  no  rents  at  all. 

And  "  gentlemen"  are  in  a  piteous  plight. 

And  "  farmers"  can't  raise  Ceres  from  her  fall : 

She  fell  with  Buonaparte — What  strange  thoughts 

Arise,  when  we  see  emperors  fall  with  oats  ! 

XXXIII. 

But  Juan  turn'd  his  eyes  on  the  sweet  child 

Whom  he  had  saved  from  slaughter — what  a  trophy ! 

Oh  !  ye  who  build  up  monuments,  defiled 

W^ith  gore,  like  Nadir  Shah,  that  costive  sophy. 

Who,  after  leaving  Hindostan  a  wild, 

And  scarce  to  the  Mogul  a  cup  of  coffee 

To  soothe  his  woes  withal,  was  slain,  the  sinner  ! 

Because  he  could  no  more  digest  his  dinner; — (^) 


(1)  He  was  killed  in  a  conspiracy,  after  his  temper  had  been  exasperated 
by  his  extreme  costivity  to  a  degree  of  insanity. 


CANTO  IX.  DON   JUAN.  281 

XXXIV. 

Oh  ye !  or  we  !  or  he !  or  she  !  reflect, 
That  one  life  saved,  especially  if  young 

Or  pretty,  is  a  thing  to  recollect 

Far  sweeter  than  the  greenest  laurels  sprung 

From  the  manure  of  human  clay,  though  deck'd 
With  all  the  praises  ever  said  or  sung  :(i) 

Though  hymn'd  by  every  harp,  unless  within 

Your  heart  joins  chorus,  Fame  is  but  a  din. 

XXXV. 

Oh !  ye  great  authors  luminous,  voluminous  I 
Ye  twice  ten  hundred  thousand  daily  scribes  ! 

Whose  pamphlets,  volumes,  newspapers,  illumine  us ! 
\\liether  you  're  paid  by  government  in  bribes, 

To  prove  the  public  debt  is  not  consuming  us  — 
Or,  roughly  treading  on  the  "  courtier's  kibes" 

With  clownish  heel,(-)  your  popular  circulation 

Feeds  you  by  printing  half  the  realm's  starvation ; — 

XXXVI. 

Oh,  ye  great  authors !  —  "  Apropos  des  bottes," — 
I  have  forgotten  what  I  meant  to  say. 

As  sometimes  have  been  greater  sages'  lots  ;  — 
'Twas  something  calculated  to  allay 

All  wrath  in  barracks,  palaces,  or  cots : 

Certes  it  would  have  been  but  thrown  away, 

And  that 's  one  comfort  for  my  lost  advice, 

Although  no  doubt  it  was  beyond  all  price. 

l\)  ["  One  Tlrtuou*.  or  a  mere  good-natured  deed, 

Doe«  all  dc«crt  In  sciences  exceed."  — Sheffield.] 
(8)  C**  The  age  is  grown  so  picked,  that  the  toe  of  the  peasant 
near  the  heel  of  the  courtier,  be  galls  bii  kibe.  —  HamUt.^ 


282 


DON   JUAN. 


xxxvir. 
But  let  it  go:  —  it  will  one  day  be  found 

With  other  relics  of  "  a  former  world," 
When  this  world  shall  be  former,  underground, 

Thrown  topsy-turvy,  twisted,  crisp'd,  and  curl'd, 
Baked,  fried,  or  burnt,  turn'd  inside-out,  or  drown'd, 

Like  all  the  worlds  before,  which  have  been  hurl'd 
First  out  of,  and  then  back  again  to  chaos. 
The  superstratum  which  will  overlay  us. 


xxxviir. 
So  Cuvier  says  ; — and  then  shall  come  again 

Unto  the  new  creation,  rising  out 
From  our  old  crash,  some  mystic,  ancient  strain 

Of  things  destroy'd  and  left  in  airy  doubt : 
Like  to  the  notions  we  now  entertain 

Of  Titans,  giants,  fellows  of  about 
Some  hundred  feet  in  height,  not  to  say  miles, 
And  mammoths,  and  your  winged  crocodiles. 


XXXIX. 

Think  if  then  George  the  Fourth  should  be  dug  up  I 
How  the  new  worldlings  of  the  then  new  East 

Will  wonder  where  such  animals  could  sup  I 
(For  they  themselves  will  be  but  of  the  least : 

Even  worlds  miscarry,  when  too  oft  they  pup. 
And  every  new  creation  hath  decreased 

In  size,  from  overworking  the  material — 

Men  are  but  maggots  of  some  huge  Earth's  burial.) 


vXTOix.  DON  JUAN.  283 

XL. 

How  will  —  to  these  young  people,  just  thrust  out 
From  some  fresh  Paradise,  and  set  to  plough, 

And  dig,  and  sweat,  and  turn  themselves  about, 
And  plant,  and  reap,  and  spin,  and  grind,  and  sow, 

Till  all  the  arts  at  length  are  brought  about, 
Especially  of  war  and  taxing, — how, 

I  say,  will  these  great  relics,  when  they  see  'em, 

Look  like  the  monsters  of  a  new  museum  ? 

XLI. 

But  I  am  apt  to  grow  too  metaphysical : 

"  The  time  is  out  of  joint," (') — and  so  am  I ; 

I  quite  forget  this  poem  *s  merely  quizzical. 
And  deviate  into  matters  rather  dry. 

I  ne'er  decide  what  I  shall  say,  and  this  I  call 
Much  too  poetical :  men  should  know  why 

They  write,  and  for  what  end  ;  but,  note  or  text, 

I  never  know  the  word  which  will  come  next. 

XLII. 

So  on  I  ramble,  now  and  then  narrating. 

Now  pondering  : — it  is  time  we  should  narrate. 

I  left  Don  Juan  with  his  horses  baiting — 
Now  we'll  get  o'er  the  ground  at  a  great  rate. 

I  shall  not  be  particular  in  stating 

His  journey,  we've  so  many  tours  of  late  : 

Suppose  him  then  at  Petersburgh  ;  suppose 

That  pleasant  ca[)ital  of  painted  snows ; 


(1)  ["  The  time  ia  out  ot  joint :  —  O  cursed  spite ! 

That  ever  I  was  bom  to  set  it  right." —/fa/n/r/.] 


284?  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  IX. 


XLIII. 

Suppose  him  in  a  handsome  uniform ; 

A  scarlet  coat,  black  facings,  a  long  plume, 
Waving,  like  sails  new  shiver'd  in  a  storm, 

Over  a  cock'd  hat  in  a  crowded  room. 
And  brilliant  breeches,  bright  as  a  Cairn  Gorme,  Q) 

Of  yellow  casimire  we  may  presume, 
White  stockings  drawn  uncurdled  as  new  milk 
O'er  limbs  whose  symmetry  set  off  the  silk ; 

XLIV. 

Suppose  him  sword  by  side,  and  hat  in  hand. 
Made  up  by  youth,  fame,  and  an  army  tailor — 

That  great  enchanter,  at  whose  rod's  command 
Beauty  springs  forth,  and  Nature's  self  turns  paler, 

Seeing  how  Art  can  make  her  work  more  grand 
(When  she  don't  pin  men's  limbs  in  like  a  gaoler),  — 

Behold  him  placed  as  if  upon  a  pillar !    He 

Seems  Love  turn'd  a  lieutenant  of  artillery  ! 

XLV.  » 

His  bandage  slipp'd  down  into  a  cravat ; 

His  wings  subdued  to  epaulettes ;  his  quiver 
Shrunk  to  a  scabbard,  with  his  arrows  at 

His  side  as  a  small  sword,  but  sharp  as  ever ; 
His  bow  converted  into  a  cock'd  hat ; 

But  still  so  like,  that  Psyche  were  more  clever 
Than  some  wives  (who  make  blunders  no  less  stupid), 
If  she  had  not  mistaken  him  for  Cupid. 

(1)  [A  yellow-coloured  crystal,  denominated  from  a  hill  in  Inverness- 
shire,  where  it  is  found.  This  has  been  generally  called  the  Scottish  t(^z : 
but  it  now  gives  place  to  another  crystal  of  a  far  harder  quality,  found  near 
Invercauld.  —  Jamieson.] 


CANTO  IX. 


DON   JUAN.  285 


XLVI. 

The  courtiers  stared,  the  ladies  whisper' d,  and 
The   empress    smiled:    the    reigning    favourite 
frown'd  — 

I  quite  forget  which  of  them  was  in  hand 

Just  then ;  as  they  are  rather  numerous  found, 

^V^lo  took  by  turns  that  difficult  command 
Since  first  her  majesty  was  singly  crown'd : 

But  they  were  mostly  nervous  six-foot  fellows, 

All  fit  to  make  a  Patagonian  jealous. 


XLVII. 

Juan  was  none  of  these,  but  slight  and  slim, 
Blushing  and  beardless;  and  yet  ne'ertheless 

There  was  a  something  in  his  turn  of  limb. 

And  still  more  in  his  eye,  which  seem'd  to  express, 

That  though  he  look'd  one  of  the  seraphim, 
There  lurk'd  a  man  beneath  the  spirit's  dress. 

Besides,  the  empress  sometimes  liked  a  boy, 

And  had  just  buried  the  fair-faced  Lanskoi.(i) 


'1)  He  was  the  grande  passion  of  the  grande  Catharine.  See  her  Lives 
under  the  head  of  "  Lanskoi."  — ["  Lanskoi  was  a  youth  of  as  fine  and 
interesting  a  figure  as  the  imagination  can  paint  Of  all  Catherine's  fa- 
Touritet,  he  was  the  man  whom  she  loved  the  most  His  education  having 
been  neglected,  she  took  the  care  of  his  improvement  upon  herself.  In 
1784,  he  was  attacked  with  a  fever,  and  perished  in  the  flower  of  his  age,  in 
the  arms  of  her  majesty.  When  he  was  no  more,  Catherine  gave  herself 
up  to  the  most  poignant  grief,  and  remained  three  months  without  going 
out  of  her  palace  of  Tzarsko-selo.  She  afterwards  raised  a  superb  monu- 
ment to  his  memory,  in  the  gardens  of  that  imperial  scat.  Lanskoi's  fortune 
was  estimated  at  three  million  rubles.  He  bequeathed  it  to  the  empress, 
who  returned  it  to  the  sisters  of  that  favourite,  reserving  only  to  herself  the 
right  of  purchasiog  the  pictures,  medals,  and  library."  —  TookeJ 


286  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

XL  VIII. 

No  wonder  tlien  that  YermolofF,  or  Momonoff, 

Or  ScherbatofF,  or  any  other  off 
Or  on,  might  dread  her  majesty  had  not  room  enough 

Within  her  bosom  (which  was  not  too  tough) 
For  a  new  flame ;  a  thought  to  cast  of  gloom  enough 

Along  the  aspect,  whether  smooth  or  rough, 
Of  him  who,  in  the  language  of  his  station, 
Then  held  that  "  high  official  situation." 

XLIX. 

O,  gentle  ladies !  should  you  seek  to  know 
The  import  of  this  diplomatic  phrase, 

Bid  Ireland's  Londonderry's  Marquess  (^)  show 
His  parts  of  speech ;  and  in  the  strange  displays 

Of  that  odd  string  of  words,  all  in  a  row, 
Which  none  divine,  and  every  one  obeys. 

Perhaps  you  may  pick  out  some  queer  no  meaning, 

Of  that  weak  wordy  harvest  the  sole  gleaning. 

L. 

I  think  I  can  explain  myself  without 
That  sad  inexplicable  beast  of  prey — 

That  Sphinx,  whose  words  would  ever  be  a  doubt, 
Did  not  his  deeds  unriddle  them  each  day — 

That  monstrous  hieroglyphic  —  that  long  spout 
Of  blood  and  water,  leaden  Castlereagh  ! 

And  here  I  must  an  anecdote  relate, 

But  luckily  of  no  great  length  or  weight. 

(1)  This  was  written  long  before  the  suicide  of  that  person. 


(UNTO  IX.  DON    JUAN.  287 

LI. 

An  English  lady  ask'd  of  an  Italian, 
What  were  the  actual  and  official  duties 

Of  tlie  strange  thing,  some  women  set  a  value  on, 
WTiich  hovers  oft  about  some  married  beauties, 

Called  "  Cavalier  servente  ?"(0  ^  Pygmalion 
Whose  statues  warm  (I  fear,  alas  !  too  true  'tis) 

Beneath  his  art.    The  dame,  press'd  to  disclose  them, 

Said — "  Lady,  I  beseech  you  to  suppose  them" 

LII. 

And  thus  I  supplicate  your  supposition, 
And  mildest,  matron-like  interpretation, 

Of  the  imperial  favourite's  condition. 

'Twas  a  high  place,  the  highest  in  the  nation 

In  fact,  if  not  in  rank ;  and  the  suspicion 
Of  any  one's  attaining  to  his  station. 

No  doubt  gave  pain,  where  each  new  pair  of  shoulders, 

If  rather  broad,  made  stocks  rise  and  their  holders. 

LIII. 

Juan,  I  said,  was  a  most  beauteous  boy, 
And  had  retain'd  his  boyish  look  beyond 

The  usual  hirsute  seasons  which  destroy. 

With  beards  and  whiskers,  and  the  like,  the  fond 

Parisiati  aspect  which  upset  old  Troy 

And  founded  Doctors'  Commons  :  —  I  have  conn'd 

The  history  of  divorces,  which,  though  chequer'd. 

Calls  Ilion's  the  first  damages  on  record. 

(1)  CS«eaiirt,VolXL  p.  119.] 


zoo  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

LIV. 

And  Catherine,  who  loved  all  things,  (save  her  lord, 
Who  was  gone  to  his  place,)  and  pass'd  for  much. 

Admiring  those  (by  dainty  dames  abhorr'd) 
Gigantic  gentlemen,  yet  had  a  touch 

Of  sentiment ;  and  he  she  most  adored 
Was  the  lamented  Lanskoi,  who  was  such 

A  lover  as  had  cost  her  many  a  tear. 

And  yet  but  made  a  middling  grenadier. 

LV. 

Oh  thou  "  teterrima  causa"  of  all  "  belli"  —  Q) 
Thou  gate  of  life  and  death — thou  nondescript ! 

Whence  is  our  exit  and  our  entrance,  —  well  I 
May  pause  in  pondering  how  all  souls  are  dipt 

In  thy  perennial  fountain  :  —  how  man  fell,  I 

Know  not,  since  knowledge  saw  her  branches  stript 

Of  her  first  fruit ;  but  how  he  falls  and  rises 

Since,  thou  hast  settled  beyond  all  surmises. 

LVI. 

Some  call  thee  "  the  worst  cause  of  war,"  but  I 
Maintain  thou  art  the  best:  for  after  all 

From  thee  we  come,  to  thee  we  go,  and  why 
To  get  at  thee  not  batter  down  a  wall, 

Or  waste  a  world  ?  since  no  one  can  deny 

Thou  dost  replenish  worlds  both  great  and  small : 

With,  or  without  thee,  all  things  at  a  stand 

Are,  or  w  ould  be,  thou  sea  of  life's  dry  land ! 

(1)  Hor.  Sat.  lib.  i.  sat.  iii. 


ro  II.  DON    JUAN.  289 

LVII. 

Catherine,  who  was  the  grand  epitome 

Of  that  great  cause  of  war,  or  peace,  or  what 

You  please  (it  causes  all  the  things  which  be, 
So  you  may  take  your  choice  of  this  or  that)  — 

Catherine,  I  say,  was  very  glad  to  see 

The  handsome  herald,  on  whose  plumage  sat 

\'ictory ;  and,  pausing  as  she  saw  him  kneel 

With  his  despatch,  forgot  to  break  the  seal.  Q) 


LVIII. 

Then  recolfecting  the  whole  empress,  nor 

Forgetting  quite  the  woman  (which  composed 

At  least  three  parts  of  this  great  whole),  she  tore 
The  letter  open  with  an  air  which  posed 

The  court,  that  watch'd  each  look  her  visage  wore. 
Until  a  royal  smile  at  length  disclosed 

Fair  weather  for  the  day.     Though  rather  spacious, 

Her  face  was  noble,  her  eyes  fine,  mouth  gracious.  (^) 

(1)  [The  union  of  debauchery  and  ferocity  which  characterised  Cathe- 
rine, are  admirably  depicted  in  lier  manner  of  feeding  her  ambition  with 
the  penual  of  the  dispatch,  and  gratifying  her  rising  passion  with  the  con- 
templation of  Juan ;  who,  in  spite  of  the  jealousy  and  murmurings  of  rival 
expectanU  and  candidates,  is  fairly  installed  into  the  "  high  official  situ, 
ation"  of  Catherine's  favourite  —  Campbell.] 

(2)  ["  Catherine  had  been  handsome  in  her  youth,  and  she  preserved 
s  gracefulneas  and  majesty  to  the  last  period  of  her  life.  She  was  of  a 
moderate  stature,  but  well  proportioned  ;  and  as  she  carried  her  head  very 
high,  she  appeared  rather  talL  She  had  an  open  front,  an  aquiline  nose, 
an  agreeable  mouth,  and  her  chin,  though  long,  was  not  misshapen.  Her 
hair  was  auburn,  her  eyebrows  black  and  rather  thick,  and  her  blue  eyes 
had  a  gentleness  which  was  often  affected,  but  oflener  still  a  mixture  of 
pride.  Her  physic^pomy  was  not  deficient  in  expression;  but  this  ex- 
prc»siun  never  discovered  what  was  passing  in  the  soul  of  Catherine,  or 
rather  it  served  her  the  better  to  disguise  it."  —  Too&e.] 

VOL.  XVI.  U 


290  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

LIX. 

Great  joy  was  hers,  or  rather  joys :  the  first 
Was  a  ta'en  city,  thirty  thousand  slain. 

Glory  and  triumph  o'er  her  aspect  burst. 
As  an  East  Indian  sunrise  on  the  main. 

These  quench'd  a  moment  her  ambition's  thirst —  I 
So  Arab  deserts  drink  in  summer's  rain : 

In  vain  I  —  As  fall  the  dews  on  quenchless  sands. 

Blood  only  serves  to  wash  Ambition's  hands ! 

LX. 

Her  next  amusement  was  more  fanciful ; 

She  smiled  at  mad  Suwarrow's  rhymes,  who  threw 
Into  a  Russian  couplet  rather  dull 

The  whole  gazette  of  thousands  whom  he  slew.(') 
Her  third  was  feminine  enough  to  annul 

The  shudder  which  runs  naturally  through 
Our  veins,  when  things  call'd  sovereigns  think  it  best 
To  kill,  and  generals  turn  it  into  jest. 

LXI. 

The  two  first  feelings  ran  their  course  complete. 
And  lighted  first  her  eye,  and  then  her  mouth : 

The  whole  court  look'd  immediately  most  sweet, 
Like  flowers  well  water'd  after  a  long  drouth :  — 

But  when  on  the  lieutenant  at  her  feet 
Her  majesty,  who  liked  to  gaze  on  youth 

Almost  as  much  as  on  a  new  despatch, 

Glanced  mildly,  all  the  world  was  on  the  watch. 

(1)  £"  Suwarrow  is  as  singular  for  the  brevity  of  his  style  as  for  the 
rapidity  of  his  conquests.     On  the  taking  Tourtourkaya,  in  Bulgaria,  he 
actually  wrote  no  more  to  the  empress  than  two  lines  of  Russ  poetry :  — 
'  Slawo  Bogon,  Slawo  bowam. 
Glory  to  God,  glory  to  you, 
Tourtourkaya  aviala,  ia  tam, 
Tourtourkaya  is  taken,  here  am  I.' " — Tooke.] 


DON   JUAN.  291 

LXII. 

"hough  somewhat  large,  exuberant,  and  truculent, 
When  wroth — whWe pleased,  she  was  as  fine  a  figure 

As  those  who  like  things  rosy,  ripe,  and  succulent, 
Would  wish  to  look  on,  while  they  are  in  vigour. 

She  could  repay  each  amatory  look  you  lent 
With  interest,  and  in  turn  was  wont  with  rigour 

To  exact  of  Cupid's  bills  the  full  amount 

At  sight,  nor  would  permit  you  to  discount. 

LXIII. 

With  her  the  latter,  though  at  times  convenient. 
Was  not  so  necessary  ;  for  they  tell         [lenient, 

That  she  was  handsome,  and  though  fierce  looKd 
And  always  used  her  favourites  too  well. 

If  once  beyond  her  boudoir's  precincts  in  ye  went. 
Your  "  fortune"  was  in  a  fair  way  "  to  swell 

A  man"  (as  Giles  says)  (^) ;  for  though  she  would 
widow  all 

\ations,  she  liked  man  as  an  individual. 

LXIV. 

What  a  strange  thing  is  man  !  and  what  a  stranger 
Is  woman  !    What  a  whirlwind  is  her  head. 

And  what  a  whirlpool  full  of  depth  and  danger 
Is  all  the  rest  about  her  I    Whether  wed. 

Or  widow,  maid  or  mother,  she  can  change  her 
Mind  like  the  wind :  whatever  she  has  said 

Or  done,  is  light  to  what  she'll  say  or  do ; — 

The  oldest  thing  on  record,  and  yet  new  I 

1)  "  HU  fortune  twellB  him,  it  is  rank,  he's  married."—  Sir  Giles 
jvcrrcach  ;  MAaaiNGEa'*  **  Scio  Way  to  pay  old  Debts.  " 

u  2 


292  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

LXV. 

Oh  Catherine !  (for  of  all  interjections, 

To  thee  both  oh  !  and  ah  !  belong  of  right 

In  love  and  war)  how  odd  are  the  connections 
Of  human  thoughts,  which  jostle  in  their  flight ! 

Just  now  yours  were  cut  out  in  different  sections  : 
First  Ismail's  capture  caught  your  fancy  quite  ; 

Next  of  new  knights,  the  fresh  and  glorious  batch ; 

And  Hiirdly  he  who  brought  you  the  despatch  ! 

LXVI. 

Shakspeare  talks  of  "  the  herald  Mercury 
New  lighted  on  a  heaven-kissing  hill  ;"(^) 

And  some  such  visions  cross'd  her  majesty. 
While  her  young  herald  knelt  before  her  still. 

'Tis  very  true  the  hill  seem'd  rather  high, 
For  a  lieutenant  to  climb  up  ;  but  skill 

Smooth'd  even  the  Simplon's  steep,  and  by  God's 
blessing 

With  youth  and  health  all  kisses  are  "heaven-kissing." 

LXVII. 

Her  majesty  look'd  down,  the  youth  look'd  up — 
And  so  they  fell  in  love ; — she  with  his  face, 

His  grace,  his  God-knows-what :  for  Cupid's  cup 
With  the  first  draught  intoxicates  apace, 

A  quintessential  laudanum  or  "  black  drop," 

Which  makes  one  drunk  at  once,  without  the  base 

Expedient  of  full  bumpers  ;  for  the  eye 

In  love  drinks  all  life's  fountains  (save  tears)  dry. 

(I)  [Hamlet,  act  iii.  sc  iv.] 


xsroix.  DON   JUAN.  293 

LXVIII. 

He,  on  the  other  hand,  if  not  in  love, 
Fell  into  that  no  less  imperious  passion, 

Self-love — which,  when  some  sort  of  thing  above 
Ourselves,  a  singer,  dancer,  much  in  fashion. 

Or  duchess,  princess,  empress,  "  deigns  to  prove  "(^ 
('Tis  Pope's  phrase)  a  great  longing,  though  a 

For  one  especial  person  out  of  many,        [rash  one, 

Makes  us  believe  ourselves  as  good  as  any. 

LXIX. 

Besides,  he  was  of  that  delighted  age 

Which  makes  all  female  ages  equal — when 

W'e  don't  much  care  with  whom  we  may  engage, 
As  bold  as  Daniel  in  the  lion*s  den, 

So  that  we  can  our  native  sun  assuage 

In  the  next  ocean,  which  may  flow  just  then. 

To  make  a  twilight  in,  just  as  Sol's  heat  is 

Quench'd  in  the  lap  of  the  salt  sea,  or  Thetis. 

LXX. 

And  Catherine  (we  must  say  thus  much  for  Catherine), 
Though  bold  and  bloody,  was  the  kind  of  thing 

Whose  temporary  passion  was  quite  flattering. 
Because  each  lover  look'd  a  sort  of  king, 
'  ule  up  upon  an  amatory  pattern, 
A  royal  husband  in  all  save  the  ring — 

Which,  being  the  damn'dest  part  of  matrimony, 

Seem'd  taking  out  the  sting  to  leave  the  honey. 

(1)  C"  Not  Ccur'i  empreu  would  I  deign  to  prove : 

No !  make  me  mUtreu  to  the  man  1  love."—  Pope  :  Elou(k1 

u  3 


294?  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

LXXI. 

And  when  you  add  to  this,  her  womanhood 
In  its  meridian,  her  blue  eyes(^)  or  gray  — 

(The  last,  if  they  have  soul,  are  quite  as  good, 
Or  better,  as  the  best  examples  say  : 

Napoleon's,  Mary's  (2)  (queen  of  Scotland),  should 
Lend  to  that  colour  a  transcendent  ray ; 

And  Pallas  also  sanctions  the  same  hue. 

Too  wise  to  look  through  optics  black  or  blue)  — 

LXXII. 

Her  sweet  smile,  and  her  then  majestic  figure. 
Her  plumpness,  her  imperial  condescension. 

Her  preference  of  a  boy  to  men  much  bigger 
(Fellows  whom  Messalina's  self  would  pension). 

Her  prime  of  life,  just  now  in  juicy  vigour, 
With  other  extras,  which  we  need  not  mention, — 

All  these,  or  any  one  of  these,  explain 

Enough  to  make  a  stripling  very  vain. 

LXXIII. 

And  that's  enough,  for  love  is  vanity, 

Selfish  in  its  beginning  as  its  end. 
Except  where  'tis  a  mere  insanity, 

A  maddening  spirit  which  would  strive  to  blend 
Itself  with  beauty's  frail  inanity. 

On  which  the  passion's  self  seems  to  depend : 
And  hence  some  heathenish  philosophers 
Make  love  the  main  spring  of  the  universe. 

(1)  ["  Several  persons  who  lived  at  the  court  affirm  that  Catherine  had 
very  blue  eyes,  and  not  gray,  as  M.  Rulhiferes  has  stated."  —  Tooke.] 

(2)  [See  ante,  p.  96.] 


VTO  IX.  DON   JUAN.  295 

LXXIV. 

Besides  Platonic  love,  besides  the  love 
Of  God,  the  love  of  sentiment,  the  loving 

Of  faithful  pairs — (I  needs  must  rhyme  with  dove. 
That  good  old  steam  -boat  which  keeps  verses  moving 

'Gainst  reason — Reason  ne'er  was  hand-and-glove 
With  rhyme,  but  always  leant  less  to  improving 

The  sound  than  sense) — besides  all  these  pretences 

To  love,  there  are  those  things  which  words  name 
senses ; 

LXXV. 

Those  movements,  those  improvements  in  our  bodies 
Which  make  all  bodies  anxious  to  get  out 

Of  their  own  sand-pits,  to  mix  with  a  goddess. 
For  such  all  women  are  at  first  no  doubt. 

How  beautiful  that  moment!  and  how  odd  is 
That  fever  which  precedes  the  languid  rout 

Of  our  sensations  !  What  a  curious  way 

The  whole  thing  is  of  clothing  souls  in  clay  ! 


LXXVI. 

The  noblest  kind  of  love  is  love  Platonical, 
To  end  or  to  begin  with ;  the  next  grand 

Is  that  which  may  be  christen'd  love  canonical, 
Because  the  clergy  take  the  thing  in  hand  ; 

The  third  sort  to  be  noted  in  our  chronicle 
As  flourishing  in  every  Christian  land, 
.  when  chaste  matrons  to  their  other  ties 

Add  what  may  be  call'd  marriage  in  disguise, 
u  4 


296  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  IX. 

LXXVII. 

Well,  we  won't  analyse — our  story  must 
Tell  for  itself:  the  sovereign  was  smitten, 

Juan  much  flatter'd  by  her  love,  or  lust; — 
I  cannot  stop  to  alter  words  once  written, 

And  the  two  are  so  mix'd  with  human  dust,       [on: 
That  he  who  names  one,  both  perchance  may  hit 

But  in  such  matters  Russia's  mighty  empress 

Behaved  no  better  than  a  common  sempstress. 

LXXVIII. 

The  whole  court  melted  into  one  wide  whisper. 
And  all  lips  were  applied  unto  all  ears  ! 

The  elder  ladies'  wrinkles  curl'd  much  crisper 
As  they  beheld  ;  the  younger  cast  some  leers 

On  one  another,  and  each  lovely  lisper 

Smiled  as  she  talk'd  the  matter  o'er ;  but  tears 

Of  rivalship  rose  in  each  clouded  eye 

Of  all  the  standing  army  who  stood  by. 

LXXIX. 

All  the  ambassadors  of  all  the  powers 

Enquired,  Who  was  this  very  new  young  man. 

Who  promised  to  be  great  in  some  iew  hours  ? 
Which  is  full  soon  (though  life  is  but  a  span). 

Already  they  beheld  the  silver  showers 
Of  rubles  rain,  as  fast  as  specie  can, 

Upon  his  cabinet,  besides  the  presents 

Of  several  ribands,  and  some  thousand  peasants.  (-) 

(1)  n"  Lust,  through  certain  strainers  well  refined, 

Is  gentle  love,  and  charms  all  womankind."  —  Pope.] 

(2)  A  Russian  estate  is  always   valued  by  the  number  of  the  slaves 
upon  it    . 


CASTO  IX.  DON    JUAN.  297 

LXXX. 

atherine  was  generous, — all  such  ladies  are: 
Love,  that  great  opener  of  the  heart  and  all 

The  ways  that  lead  there,  be  they  near  or  far, 
Above,  below,  by  turnpikes  great  or  small, — 

Love — (though  she  had  a  cursed  taste  for  war, 
And  was  not  the  best  wife,(i)  unless  we  call 

Such  Clytemnestra,  though  perhaps  'tis  better 

That  one  should  die,  than  two  drag  on  the  fetter) — 


LXXXI. 

Love  had  made  Catherine  make  each  lover's  fortune, 
Unlike  our  own  half-chaste  Elizabeth, 

Whose  avarice  all  disbursements  did  importune, 
If  history,  the  grand  liar,  ever  saith 

The  truth;  andthoughgriefheroldagemightshorten. 
Because  she  put  a  favourite  to  death, 

Her  vile,  ambiguous  method  of  flirtation. 

And  stinginess,  disgrace  her  sex  and  station. 


1)  ["  Peter  the  Third  died  in  July,  1762,  just  one  week  after  his  depo- 
sition. The  real  manner  in  which  he  came  by  his  death  is  one  of 
those  events  over  which,  it  is  probable,  there  will  be  for  ever  a  veil  im- 
penetrable to  human  eyes,  and  known  only  to  that  Being  to  whom  the 
heart  is  open,  and  from  whom  no  secrets  are  conccale<J.  The  partisans  that 
might  have  retained  their  attachment  to  him  after  his  fall ;  the  mur- 
murs  of  the  populace,  who  quietly  permit  revolutions  to  be  effected,  and 
afterwards  lament  those  who  have  fallen  their  victims  ;  the  difficulties 
arising  from  keeping  in  custody  a  prisoner  of  such  consequence;  all 
these  motives  in  conjunction  tend  to  give  credit  to  the  opinion,  that  some 
hand  of  uncontrollable  authority  shortened  his  days.  But  the  conduct  of 
'  itherine  l)efore  that  event,  and  eapecially  for  four  and  thirty  years  that 
•-  afterwards  reigned,  is  of  itself  alone  a  suificient  refutation  of  so  atro> 
^>us  a  calumny  as  would  fix  Uie  guilt  of  it  on  her."— Tooke.] 


298  DON    JUAN.  CAKTOIX. 

Lxxxir. 
But  when  the  levee  rose,  and  all  was  bustle 

In  the  dissolving  circle,  all  the  nations' 
Ambassadors  began  as  't  were  to  hustle 

Round  the  young  man  with  their  congratulations. 
Also  the  softer  silks  were  heard  to  rustle 

Of  gentle  dames,  among  whose  recreations 
It  is  to  speculate  on  handsome  faces, 
Especially  when  such  lead  to  high  places. 


LXXXIII. 

Juan,  who  found  himself,  he  knew  not  how, 
A  general  object  of  attention,  made 

His  answers  with  a  very  graceful  bow, 
As  if  born  for  the  ministerial  trade. 

Though  modest,  on  his  unembarrass'd  brow 
Nature  had  written  "  gentleman."     He  said 

Little,  but  to  the  purpose  ;  and  his  manner 

Flung  hovering  graces  o'er  him  like  a  banner. 


LXXXIV. 

An  order  from  her  majesty  consign'd 
Our  young  lieutenant  to  the  genial  care 

Of  those  in  office :  all  the  world  look'd  kind, 
(As  it  will  look  sometimes  with  the  first  stare, 

Which  youth  would  not  act  ill  to  keep  in  mind,) 
As  also  did  Miss  ProtasofF  then  there, 

Named  from  her  mystic  office  "  I'Eprouveuse," 

A  term  inexplicable  to  the  Muse. 


DON   JUAN. 


299 


LXXXV. 

With  her  then,  as  in  humble  duty  bound, 
Juan  retired, — and  so  will  I,  until 

My  Pegasus  shall  tire  of  touching  ground. 
We  have  just  lit  on  a  "  heaven-kissing  hill, 

>o  lofty  that  I  feel  my  brain  turn  round, 
And  all  my  fancies  whirling  like  a  mill ; 

Which  is  a  signal  to  my  nerves  and  brain, 

To  take  a  quiet  ride  in  some  green  lane. 


DON  JUAN. 


CANTO  THE  TENTH. 


303 


DON     JUAN. 


CANTO    THE    TENTH. 


I. 

When  Newton  saw  an  apple  fall,  he  found 
In  that  slight  startle  from  his  contemplation  — 

'Tis  said  (for  I'll  not  answer  above  ground 
For  any  sage's  creed  or  calculation) — 

A  mode  of  proving  that  the  earth  turn'd  round 
In  a  most  natural  whirl,  called  "  gravitation;" 

And  this  is  the  sole  mortal  who  could  grapple, 

Since  Adam,  with  a  fall,  or  with  an  apple.  (^) 

II. 
Man  fell  with  apples,  and  with  apples  rose, 

If  this  be  true ;  for  we  must  deem  the  mode 
In  which  Sir  Isaac  Newton  could  disclose 

Tlirough  the  then  unpaved  stars  the  turnpike  road, 
A  thing  to  counterbalance  human  woes ; 

For  ever  since  immortal  man  hath  glow'd 
With  all  kinds  of  mechanics,  and  full  soon 
Steam-engines  will  conduct  him  to  the  moon. 

(1)  ["  The  celebrated  apple  tree,  the  fall  of  one  of  the  apples  of  which 
U  said  to  have  turned  the  attention  of  Newton  to  the  subject  of  gravity, 
was  dcstrojed  by  wind  about  four  years  ago.    The  anecdote  of  the  falling 


304?  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

III. 

And  wherefore  this  exordium? — Why,  just  now, 
In  taking  up  this  paltry  sheet  of  paper, 

My  bosom  underwent  a  glorious  glow, 
And  my  internal  spirit  cut  a  caper : 

And  though  so  much  inferior,  as  I  know, 

To  those  who,  by  the  dint  of  glass  and  vapour. 

Discover  stars,  and  sail  in  the  wind's  eye, 

I  wish  to  do  as  much  by  poesy. 

IV. 

In  the  wind's  eye  I  have  sail'd,  and  sail ;  but  for 
The  stars,  I  own  my  telescope  is  dim ; 

But  at  the  least  I  have  shunn'd  the  common  shore. 
And  leaving  land  far  out  of  sight,  would  skim 

The  ocean  of  eternity  :  the  roar 

Of  breakers  has  not  daunted  my  slight,  trim^ 

But  still  sea-worthy  skiff;  and  she  may  float 

Where  ships  have  founder'd,  as  doth  many  a  boat. 

V. 

We  left  our  hero,  Juan,  in  the  bloom 

Of  favouritism,  but  not  yet  in  the  bliLsh  ;  — 

And  far  be  it  from  my  Muses  to  presume 
(For  I  have  more  than  one  Muse  at  a  push) 

To  follow  him  beyond  the  drawing-room  : 
It  is  enough  that  Fortune  found  him  flush 

Of  youth,  and  vigour,  beauty,  and  those  things 

Which  for  an  instant  clip  enjoyment's  wings. 

apple  is  mentioned  neither  by  Dr.  Stukeley  nor  by  Mr.  Conduit,  and,  as  I 
have  not  been  able  to  find  any  authority  for  it  whatever,  I  did  not  feel 
myself  at  liberty  to  use  it."  —Brewster's  Life  qf  Newion,  p.  344.] 


CAJTTO  X.  DON  JUAN.  305 

VI. 

But  soon  they  grow  again  and  leave  their  nest. 

"  Oh  I "  saith  the  Psalmist,  "  that  I  had  a  dove's 
Pinions  to  flee  away,  and  be  at  rest ! " 

And  who  that  recollects  young  years  and  loves, — 
Though  hoary  now,  and  with  a  withering  breast, 

And  palsied  fancy,  which  no  longer  roves  [rather 
Beyond  its  dimm'd  eye's  sphere, — but  would  much 
Sigh  like  his  son,  than  cough  like  his  grandfather  ? 


VII. 

But  sighs  subside,  and  tears  (even  widows')  shrink. 
Like  Arno  in  the  summer,  to  a  shallow, 

So  narrow  as  to  shame  their  wintry  brink. 

Which  threatens  inundations  deep  and  yellow  ! 

Such  difference  doth  a  few  months  make.  You'd  think 
Grief  a  rich  field  which  never  would  lie  fallow ; 

Xo  more  it  doth,  its  ploughs  but  change  their  boys, 

Who  furrow  some  new  soil  to  sow  for  joys. 


VIII. 

But  coughs  will  come  when  sighs  depart — and  now 
And  then  before  sighs  cease ;  for  oft  the  one 

Will  bring  the  other,  ere  the  lake-like  brow 
Is  ruffled  by  a  wrinkle,  or  the  sun 

Of  life  reach'd  ten  o'clock:  and  while  a  glow. 
Hectic  and  brief  as  summer's  day  nigh  done, 
>  erspreads  the  cheek  which  seems  too  pure  for  clay, 

1  housands  blaze,  love,  hope,  die,— how  happy  they  I— 

VOL.  XVI.  X 


304?  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

III. 

And  wherefore  this  exordium? — Why,  just  now, 
In  taking  up  this  paltry  sheet  of  paper, 

My  bosom  underwent  a  glorious  glow, 
And  my  internal  spirit  cut  a  caper : 

And  though  so  much  inferior,  as  I  know, 

To  those  who,  by  the  dint  of  glass  and  vapour, 

Discover  stars,  and  sail  in  the  wind's  eye, 

I  wish  to  do  as  much  by  poesy. 

IV. 

In  the  wind's  eye  I  have  sail'd,  and  sail ;  but  for 
The  stars,  I  own  my  telescope  is  dim ; 

But  at  the  least  I  have  shunn'd  the  common  shore. 
And  leaving  land  far  out  of  sight,  would  skim 

The  ocean  of  eternity :  the  roar 

Of  breakers  has  not  daunted  my  slight,  trim. 

But  still  sea-worthy  skiff;  and  she  may  float 

Where  ships  have  founder'd,  as  doth  many  a  boat. 

V. 

We  left  our  hero,  Juan,  in  the  hloom 

Of  favouritism,  but  not  yet  in  the  blush  ;  — 

And  far  be  it  from  my  Muses  to  presume 
(For  I  have  more  than  one  Muse  at  a  push) 

To  follow  him  beyond  the  drawing-room  : 
It  is  enough  that  Fortune  found  him  flush 

Of  youth,  and  vigour,  beauty,  and  those  things 

Which  for  an  instant  clip  enjoyment's  wings. 

apple  is  mentioned  neither  by  Dr.  Stukeley  nor  by  Mr.  Conduit,  and,  as  I 
have  not  been  able  to  find  any  authority  for  it  whatever,  I  did  not  feel 
myself  at  liberty  to  use  it."— Brewster's  Life  qf  Newton,  p.  344.] 


CANTO  X.  DON  JUAN.  305 

VI. 

But  soon  they  grow  again  and  leave  their  nest. 

"  Oh ! "  saith  the  Psalmist,  "  that  I  had  a  dove's 
Pinions  to  flee  away,  and  be  at  rest ! " 

And  who  that  recollects  young  years  and  loves, — 
Though  hoary  now,  and  with  a  withering  breast. 

And  palsied  fancy,  which  no  longer  roves  [rather 
Beyond  its  dimm'd  eye's  sphere, — but  would  much 
Sigh  like  his  son,  than  cough  Hke  his  grandfather  ? 


VII. 

But  sighs  subside,  and  tears  (even  widows')  shrink, 
Like  Arno  in  the  summer,  to  a  shallow, 

So  narrow  as  to  shame  their  wintry  brink, 

Which  threatens  inundations  deep  and  yellow  ! 

Such  difference  doth  a  few  months  make.  You  'd  think 
Grief  a  rich  field  which  never  would  lie  fallow ; 

\o  more  it  doth,  its  ploughs  but  change  their  boys, 

Who  furrow  some  new  soil  to  sow  for  joys. 


viir. 
But  coughs  will  come  when  sighs  depart — and  now 

And  then  before  sighs  cease ;  for  oft  the  one 
Will  bring  the  other,  ere  the  lake-like  brow 

Is  ruffled  by  a  wrinkle,  or  the  sun 
Of  life  reach'd  ten  o'clock :  and  while  a  glow. 

Hectic  and  brief  as  summer's  day  nigh  done, 
O'erspreads  the  cheek  which  seems  too  pure  for  clay, 
Thousands  blaze,  love,  hope,  die,— how  happy  they  I— 

VOL.  XVI.  X 


306  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

IX. 

But  Juan  was  not  meant  to  die  so  soon. 

We  left  him  in  the  focus  of  such  glory 
As  may  be  won  by  favour  of  the  moon 

Or  ladies'  fancies  —  rather  transitory 
Perhaps ;  but  who  would  scorn  the  month  of  June, 

Because  December,  with  his  breath  so  hoary, 
Must  come  ?    Much  rather  should  he  court  the  ray, 
To  hoard  up  warmth  against  a  wintry  day. 

X. 

Besides,  he  had  some  qualities  which  fix 
Middle-aged  ladies  even  more  than  young : 

The  former  know  what's  what ;  while  new-fledged 
chicks 
Know  little  more  of  love  than  what  is  sung 

In  rhymes,  or  dreamt  (for  fancy  will  play  tricks) 
In  visions  of  those  skies  from  whence  Love  sprung. 

Some  reckon  women  by  their  suns  or  years, 

I  rather  think  the  moon  should  date  the  dears. 

XI. 

And  why?  because  she's  changeable  and  chaste. 

I  know  no  other  reason,  whatsoe'er 
Suspicious  people,  who  find  fault  in  haste, 

May  choose  to  tax  me  with ;  which  is  not  fair. 
Nor  flattering  to  "  their  temper  or  their  taste," 

As  my  friend  Jeffrey  writes  with  such  an  air:(i) 
However,  I  forgive  him,  and  I  trust 
He  will  forgive  himself; — if  not,  I  must. 

(1)  [See  ante.  Vol.  XV.  p.  22.  — • "  I    have  read  the  recent  article  of 
Jeffrey.    I  suppose  the  long  and  the  short  of  it  is,  that  he  wishes  to  pro. 


NTO  X.  DON   JUAN.  307 

XII. 

Old  enemies  who  have  become  new  friends 
Should  so  continue  —  'tis  a  point  of  honour; 

And  I  know  nothing  which  could  make  amends 
For  a  return  to  hatred :  I  would  shun  her 

Like  garlic,  howsoever  she  extends 

Her  hundred  arms  and  legs,  and  fain  outrun  her. 

Old  flames,  new  wives,  become  our  bitterest  foes — 

Converted  foes  should  scorn  to  join  with  those. 

XIII. 

This  were  the  worst  desertion :  —  renegadoes. 
Even  shuffling  Southey,  that  incarnate  lie, 

Would  scarcely  join  again  the  "  reformadoes,"  (J) 
Whom  he  forsook  to  fill  the  laureate's  sty : 

And  honest  men  from  Iceland  to  Barbadoes, 
Whether  in  Caledon  or  Italy, 

Should  not  veer  round  with  every  breath,  nor  seize 

To  pain,  the  moment  when  you  cease  to  please. 

XIV. 

The  lawyer  and  the  critic  but  behold 
The  baser  sides  of  literature  and  life. 

And  nought  remains  unseen,  but  much  untold. 
By  those  who  scour  those  double  vales  of  strife. 


>kc  me  to  reply.   But  I  won't,  for  I  owe  him  a  good  turn  still  for  his  kind- 
,  •»»  by-gone.    Indeed,  I  presume  that  the  present  opportunity  of  attacking 
c  again  was  irresistible;  and  I  can't  blame  him,  knowing  what  human 
iturc  is."  — A  Letters,  June,  1322.] 

r  "  Reformers,"  or  rather  "  Reformed."    The  Haron  Bradwardine  in 
Waverley,  is  authority  for  the  word 

X  2 


308  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

While  common  men  grow  ignorantly  old, 

The  lawyer's  brief  is  like  the  surgeon's  knife, 
Dissecting  the  whole  inside  of  a  question, 
And  with  it  all  the  process  of  digestion. 

XV. 

A  legal  broom's  a  moral  chimney-sweeper, 
And  that's  the  reason  he  himself 's  so  dirty ; 

The  endless  soot(^)  bestows  a  tint  far  deeper 
Than  can  be  hid  by  altering  his  shirt ;  he 

Retains  the  sable  stains  of  the  dark  creeper. 
At  least  some  twenty -nine  do  out  of  thirty, 

In  all  their  habits  ;  —  not  so  you,  I  own  ; 

As  Caesar  wore  his  robe  you  wear  your  gown. 

XVI. 

And  all  our  little  feuds,  at  least  all  mine, 
Dear  Jeffrey,  once  my  most  redoubted  foe 

(As  far  as  rhyme  and  criticism  combine 
To  make  such  puppets  of  us  things  below), 

Are  over:  Here's  a  health  to  "  Auld  Lang  Syne  !'* 
I  do  not  know  you,  and  may  never  know 

Your  face — but  you  have  acted  on  the  whole 

Most  nobly,  and  I  own  it  from  my  soul.  (2) 

XVII. 

And  when  I  use  the  phrase  of  "  Auld  Lang  Syne  ! " 
'Tis  not  address'd  to  you  —  the  more's  the  pity 

For  me,  for  I  would  rather  take  my  wine 

With  you,  than  aught  (save  Scott)  in  your  proud  city. 

(1)  Query,  suit  ?  —  Printer's  Devil. 

(2)  [This  tribute  to  a  former  antagonist  displays  so  much  frankness, 
generosity,  and  manly  feeling,  that  it  must  eradicate  all  latent  remains  of 
animosity  from  the  bosom  of  any  but  the  most  rancorous  and  vindictive. 
In  addition  to  these  merits,  the  felicitous  introduction  of  the  poet's  recol- 
lections of  his  boyish  days  renders  this  passage  equal  in  poetical  beauty  to 
any  that  has  proceeded  from  his  pen Campbell.] 


CAKTO  I.  DON   JUAN.  309 

But  somehow,  —  it  may  seem  a  schoolboy's  whine, 

And  yet  I  seek  not  to  be  grand  nor  witty, 
But  I  am  half  a  Scot  by  birth,  arid  bred 
A  whole  one,  and  my  heart  flies  to  my  head,  —  Q) 

XVIII. 

As  "  Auld  Lang  Syne"  brings  Scotland,  one  and  all, 
Scotch  plaids,  Scotch  snoods,  the  blue  hills,  and 
clear  streams. 

The  Dee,  the  Don,  Balgounie's  brig's  black  wall,  (2) 
All  my  boy  feelings,  all  my  gentler  dreams 

Of  what  I  then  dreamt,  clothed  in  their  own  pall. 
Like  Banquo's  offspring ; — floating  past  me  seems 

My  childhood  in  this  childishness  of  mine : 

I  care  not — 'tis  a  glimpse  of"  Auld  Lang  Syne." 

XIX. 

And  though,  as  you  remember,  in  a  fit 

Of  wrath  and  rhyme,  when  juvenile  and  curly, 

I  rail'd  at  Scots  to  show  my  wrath  and  wit. 
Which  must  be  own'd  was  sensitive  and  surly, 

(1)  ["  I  don't  like  to  bore  you  about  the  Scotch  novels  (as  they  call  them, 
though  two  of  them  are  English,  and  the  rest  half  so' ;  but  nothing  can  or 
could  ever  persuade  mc,  since  I  was  the  first  ten  minutes  in  your  company, 
it  you  are  not  the  man  :  to  me  these  novels  have  so  much  of  '  Auld  lang 
ne'  (I  was  bred  a  canny  Scot  till  ten  years  old),  that  I  never  move  with. 
It  them."  —  Lord  A  to  Sir  W.  Scott,  Jan.  12.  1822.] 
2)  The  brig  of  Don,  near  the  "  aul.l  toun"  of  Aberdeen,  with  its  one 
..rch,  and  its  black  deep  salmon  stream  below,  is  in  my  memory  as  yesterday. 
I  still  remember,  though  |>erhaps  I  may  misquote,  the  awful  proveib  which 
made  me  pause  to  cross  it,  and  yet  lean  over  it  with  a  childish  delight, 
being  an  only  son,  at  least  by  the  mother's  side.    The  saying  as  recol- 
lected by  me  was  this,  but  I  have  never  heard  or  seen  it  since  I  was  nine 
years  of  age :  — 

"  Brig  of  Balgounle,  black 's  your  tca% 
Wi'  a  wife's  ae  son,  and  a  mear's  aefoal, 
Doun  ye  shall  fa' ! " 

X   o 


310 


DON    JUAN. 


Yet  'tis  in  vain  such  sallies  to  permit, 

They  cannot  quench  young  feelings  fresh  and  early : 
I  "  scotcJid  not  kill'd"  the  Scotchman  in  my  blood, 
And  love  the  land  of  "  mountain  and  of  flood."(^) 

XX. 

Don  Juan,  who  was  real,  or  ideal, — 

For  both  are  much  the  same,  since  what  men  think 
Exists  when  the  once  thinkers  are  less  real 

Than  what  they  thought,  for  mind  can  never  sink, 
And  'gainst  the  body  makes  a  strong  appeal ; 

And  yet  'tis  very  puzzling  on  the  brink 
Of  what  is  call'd  eternity,  to  stare. 
And  know  no  more  of  what  is  here,  than  there; — 

XXI. 

Don  Juan  grew  a  very  polish'd  Russian  — 

How  we  won't  mention,  why  we  need  not  say : 

Few  youthful  minds  can  stand  the  strong  concussion 
Of  any  slight  temptation  in  their  way ; 

But  his  just  now  were  spread  as  is  a  cushion 
Smooth'd  for  a  monarch's  seat  of  honour :  gay 

Damsels,  and  dances,  revels,  ready  money. 

Made  ice  seem  paradise,  and  winter  sunny. 

XXII. 

The  favour  of  the  empress  was  agreeable ; 

And  though  the  duty  wax'd  a  little  hard. 
Young  people  at  his  time  of  life  should  be  able 

To  come  off  handsomely  in  that  regard. 

(1)  ["  Land  of  brown  heath  and  shaggy  wood. 

Land  of  the  mountain  and  the  flood,"  &c. 

Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.2 


CANTO  I.  DON   JUAN.  311 

He  was  now  growing  up  like  a  green  tree,  able 

For  love,  war,  or  ambition,  which  reward 
Their  luckier  votaries,  till  old  age's  tedium 
Make  some  prefer  the  circulating  medium. 

XXIII. 

Vbout  this  time,  as  might  have  been  anticipated, 
Seduced  by  youth  and  dangerous  examples, 

Don  Juan  grew,  I  fear,  a  little  dissipated ; 
Which  is  a  sad  thing,  and  not  only  tramples 

On  our  fresh  feelings,  but — as  being  participated 
With  all  kinds  of  incorrigible  samples 

Of  frail  humanity — must  make  us  selfish, 

And  shut  our  souls  up  in  us  like  a  shell-fish. 

XXIV. 

This  we  pass  over.     We  will  also  pass 
The  usual  progress  of  intrigues  between 

Unequal  matches,  such  as  are,  alas ! 

A  young  lieutenant's  with  a  rwt  old  queen. 

But  one  who  is  riot  so  youthful  as  she  was 
In  all  the  royalty  of  sweet  seventeen. 

Sovereigns  may  sway  materials,  but  not  matter, 

And  wrinkles,  the  d d  democrats,  won't  flatter. 

XXV. 

And  Death,  the  sovereign's  sovereign,  though  the 
Gracchus  of  all  mortality,  who  levels,         [great 

With  his  Agrarian  laws,(^)  the  high  estate 

Of  him  who  feasts,  and  fights,  and  roars,  and  revels, 

(1)  Tiberius  Gracchu*,  being  tribune  of  the  people,  demanded  in  their 
name  the  execution  of  the  Agrarian  law ;  by  which  all  persons  possessing 

X  4^ 


312  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

To  one  small  grass-grown  patch  (which  must  await 

Corruption  for  its  crop)  with  the  poor  devils 
Who  never  had  a  foot  of  land  till  now,  — 
Death 's  a  reformer,  all  men  must  allow. 


XXVI. 

He  lived  (not  Death,  but  Juan)  in  a  hurry 
Of  waste,  and  haste,  and  glare,  and  gloss,  and  glitter, 

In  this  gay  clime  of  bear-skins  black  and  furry  — 
Which  (though  I  hate  to  say  a  thing  that 's  bitter) 

Peep  out  sometimes,  when  things  are  in  a  flurry, 
Through  all  the  "  purple  and  fine  linen,"  fitter 

For  Babylon's  than  Russia's  royal  harlot — 

And  neutralise  her  outward  show  of  scarlet. 


XXVII. 

And  this  same  state  we  won't  describe :  we  would 
Perhaps  from  hearsay,  or  from  recollection ; 

But  getting  nigh  grim  Dante's  "  obscure  wood,"(^) 
That  horrid  equinox,  that  hateful  section 

Of  human  years,  that  half-way  house,  that  rude 
Hut,  whence  wise  travellers  drive  with  circum- 
spection 

Life's  sad  post-horses  o'er  the  dreary  frontier 

Of  age,  and  looking  back  to  youth,  give  one  tear ; — 


above  a  certain  number  of  acres  were  to  be  deprived  of  the  surplus  for  the 
benefit  of  the  poor  citizens. 
(1)  "  Mi  retrovai  per  un  selva  oscura."  — Jw/erwo,  Canto  I. 


vMoi.  DON   JUAN.  313 

XXVIII. 

I  won't  describe,  —  that  is,  if  I  can  help 
Description  ;  and  I  won't  reflect,  —  that  is, 

If  I  can  stave  off  thought,  which  —  as  a  whelp 
Chngs  to  its  teat — sticks  to  me  through  the  abyss 

Of  this  odd  labyrinth ;  or  as  the  kelp 
Holds  by  the  rock ;  or  as  a  lover's  kiss 

Drains  its  first  draught  of  lips:  —  but,  as  I  said, 

I  iDont  philosophise,  and  will  be  read. 


XXIX. 

Juan,  instead  of  courting  courts,  was  courted, — 
A  thing  which  happens  rarely :  this  he  owed 

-Much  to  his  youth,  and  much  to  his  reported 
Valour ;  much  also  to  the  blood  he  show'd. 

Like  a  race-horse ;  much  to  each  dress  he  sported. 
Which  set  the  beauty  off  in  which  he  glow'd, 

As  purple  clouds  befringe  the  sun ;  but  most 

lie  owed  to  an  old  woman  and  his  post. 


XXX. 

He  wrote  to  Spain : — and  all  his  near  relations, 
Perceiving  he  was  in  a  handsome  way 

Of  getting  on  himself,  and  finding  stations 
For  cousins  also,  answer'd  the  same  day. 

"cveral  prepared  themselves  for  emigrations; 
And  eating  ices,  were  o'erheard  to  say. 

That  with  the  addition  of  a  slight  pelisse, 

^Iad^id'8  and  Moscow's  climes  were  of  a  piece. 


314!  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

XXXI. 

His  mother,  Donna  Inez,  finding,  too. 

That  in  the  Heu  of  drawing  on  his  banker, 

Where  his  assets  were  waxing  rather  few, 

He  had  brought  his   spending  to   a   handsome 
anchor, — 

Replied,  "  that  she  was  glad  to  see  him  through 
Those  pleasures  after  which  wild  youth  will  hanker ; 

As  the  sole  sign  of  man's  being  in  his  senses 

Is,  learning  to  reduce  his  past  expenses. 


XXXII. 

"  She  also  recommended  him  to  God, 

And  no  less  to  God's  Son,  as  well  as  Mother, 

Warn'd  him  against  Greek  worship,  which  looks  odd 
In  Catholic  eyes ;  but  told  him,  too,  to  smother 

Outward  dislike,  which  don't  look  well  abroad ; 
Inform'd  him  that  he  had  a  little  brother 

Born  in  a  second  wedlock ;  and  above 

All,  praised  the  empress's  maternal  love. 


XXXIII. 

"  She  could  not  too  much  give  her  approbation" 
Unto  an  empress,  who  preferr'd  young  men 

Whose  age,  and  what  was  better  still,  whose  nation 
And  climate,  stopp'd  all  scandal  (now  and  then):  — 

At  home  it  might  have  given  her  some  vexation ; 
But  where  thermometers  sunk  down  to  ten. 

Or  five,  or  one,  or  zero,  she  could  never 

Believe  that  virtue  thaw'd  before  the  river." 


,  AM..  \.  DON   JUAN.  315 

XXXIV. 

Oh  for  3i  forty-parson  power  [^)  to  chant 
Thy  praise,  Hypocrisy  !    Oh  for  a  hymn 

Loud  as  the  virtues  thou  dost  loudly  vaunt, 
Not  practise  !     Oh  for  trumps  of  cherubim  ! 

Or  the  ear-trumpet  of  my  good  old  aunt. 

Who,  though  her  spectacles  at  last  grew  dim, 

Drew  quiet  consolation  through  its  hint. 

When  she  no  more  could  read  the  pious  print. 

XXXV. 

She  was  no  hypocrite  at  least,  poor  soul. 
But  went  to  heaven  in  as  sincere  a  way 

As  any  body  on  the  elected  roll. 

Which  portions  out  upon  the  judgment  day 

Heaven's  freeholds,  in  a  sort  of  doomsday  scroll, 
Such  as  the  conqueror  William  did  repay 

His  knights  with,  lotting  others'  properties 

Into  some  sixty  thousand  new  knights'  fees. 

XXXVI. 

I  can't  complain,  whose  ancestors  are  there, 
Erneis,  Radulphus — eight-and-forty  manors 

(If  that  my  memory  doth  not  greatly  err) 

Were  theirreward  for  following  Billy's  banners;(2) 

And  though  I  can't  help  thinking  'twas  scarce  fair 
To  strip  the  Saxons  of  their  hydes^  (•*)  like  tanners; 

Vet  as  they  founded  churches  with  the  produce, 

Vou  '11  deem,  no  doubt,  they  put  it  to  a  good  use. 

(1)  A  metaphor  taken  from  the  "  forty-horse  power  "  of  a  steam-engine. 
That  mad  wag,  the  Reverend  Sydney  Smith,  sitting  by  a  brother  clergy, 
man  at  dinner,  oteerred  afterwards  that  his  dull  neighbour  had  a  "  twelve- 
parson  power"  of  conversation: 

^-•.-  Collins's  Peerage,  vol.  viL  p.  71.] 
lyde." —  I  believe  a  hyde  of  land  to  be  a  legitimate  word,  and,  as 
.-v...,  „..L.jcct  to  the  tax  of  a  quibble. 


316  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

XXXVII. 

The  gentle  Juan  flourish'd,  though  at  times 
He  felt  like  other  plants  called  sensitive, 

Which  shrink  from  touch,  as  monarchs  do  from  rhymes, 
Save  such  as  Southey  can  afford  to  give. 

Perhaps  he  long'd  in  bitter  frosts  for  climes 
In  which  the  Neva's  ice  would  cease  to  live 

Before  May-day :  perhaps,  despite  his  duty, 

In  royalty's  vast  arms  he  sigh'd  for  beauty : 


XXXVIII. 

Perhaps — but,  sans  perhaps,  we  need  not  seek 
For  causes  young  or  old :  the  canker-worm 

Will  feed  upon  the  fairest,  freshest  cheek. 
As  well  as  further  drain  the  wither'd  form : 

Care,  like  a  housekeeper,  brings  every  week 
His  bills  in,  and  however  we  may  storm. 

They  must  be  paid :  though  six  days  smoothly  run, 

The  seventh  will  bring  blue  devils  or  a  dun. 


xxxix. 
I  don't  know  how  it  was,  but  he  grew  sick : 

The  empress  was  alarm'd,  and  her  physician 
(The  same  who  physick'd  Peter)  found  the  tick 

Of  his  fierce  pulse  betoken  a  condition 
Which  augur'd  of  the  dead,  however  quick 

Itself,  and  show'd  a  feverish  disposition ; 
At  which  the  whole  court  was  extremely  troubled, 
The  sovereign  shock'd,  and  all  his  medicines  doubled. 


NTO  X.  DON   JUAN.  317 

XL. 

Low  were  the  whispers,  manifold  the  rumours 
Some  said  he  had  been  poison'd  by  Potemkin ; 

Others  talk'd  learnedly  of  certain  tumours, 
Exhaustion,  or  disorders  of  the  same  kin ; 

Some  said  'twas  a  concoction  of  the  humours. 
Which  with  the  blood  too  readily  will  claim  kin ; 

Others  again  were  ready  to  maintain, 

"  'Twas  only  the  fatigue  of  last  campaign." 

XL  I. 

But  here  is  one  prescription  out  of  many : 
"  Sodae  sulphat.  5vj.  5fs.  Mannae  optim. 

Aq.  fervent.  f.J  ifs.  5ij.  tinct.  Sennae  [him) 

Haustus"  (And  here  the  surgeon  came  and  cupp'd 

"  R  Pulv.  Com.  gr.  iij.  Ipecacuanhae " 

(With  more  beside  if  Juan  had  not  stopp'd  'em). 

*'  Bolus  Potassae  Sulphuret.  sumendus, 

Et  haustus  ter  in  die  capiendus." 

XLII. 

This  is  the  way  physicians  mend  or  end  us, 
Secundum  artem :  but  although  we  sneer 

In  health — when  ill,  we  call  them  to  attend  us. 
Without  the  least  propensity  to  jeer: 

While  that  "  hiatus  maxime  deflendus" 
To  be  fill'd  up  by  spade  or  mattock's  near. 

Instead  of  gliding  graciously  down  Lethe, 

We  tease  mild  Baillie,(')  or  soft  Abernethy.(2) 

1)  [For  an  account  of  Dr.  Baillie't  visit  to  Ix)rd  Byron,  see  ante, 
;   XV.  p.  124] 

[Both  Dr.  Baillic  and  John  Abernethy,  the  great  surgeon,  were  re- 

rkahle  for  ri/ntrmri.t  fit  upoc-rh.  _  E.J 


318  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

XLIII. 

Juan  demurr'd  at  this  first  notice  to 

Quit;  and  though  death  had  threaten'd  an  ejection, 
His  youth  and  constitution  bore  him  through, 

And  sent  the  doctors  in  a  new  direction. 
But  still  his  state  was  delicate :  the  hue 

Of  health  but  flicker'd  with  a  faint  reflection 
Along  his  wasted  cheek,  and  seem'd  to  gravel 
The  faculty — who  said  that  he  must  travel. 


XL  IV. 

The  climate  was  too  cold,  they  said,  for  him, 
Meridian-born,  to  bloom  in.     This  opinion 

Made  the  chaste  Catherine  look  a  little  grim, 
Who  did  not  like  at  first  to  lose  her  minion : 

But  when  she  saw  his  dazzling  eye  wax  dim. 
And  drooping  like  an  eagle's  with  dipt  pinion, 

She  then  resolved  to  send  him  on  a  mission. 

But  in  a  style  becoming  his  condition. 


XLV. 

There  was  just  then  a  kind  of  a  discussion, 

A  sort  of  treaty  or  negotiation 
Between  the  British  cabinet  and  Russian, 

Maintain' d  with  all  the  due  prevarication       [on ; 
With  which  great  states  such  things  are  apt  to  push 

Something  about  the  Baltic's  navigation, 
Hides,  train-oil,  tallow,  and  the  rights  of  Thetis, 
Which  Britons  deem  their  "  uti  possidetis." 


CAXTO  X.  DON   JUAN.  319 

XLVI. 

So  Catherine,  who  had  a  handsome  way 
Of  fitting  out  her  favourites,  conferred 

This  secret  charge  on  Juan,  to  display 
At  once  her  royal  splendour,  and  reward 

His  services.     He  kiss'd  hands  the  next  day, 
Received  instructions  how  to  play  his  card, 

Was  laden  with  all  kinds  of  gifts  and  honours. 

Which   show'd   what   great   discernment   was   the 
donor's. 

XL  VII. 

But  she  was  lucky,  and  luck's  all.     Your  queens 

Are  generally  prosperous  in  reigning ; 
Which  puzzles  us  to  know  what  Fortune  means. 

But  to  continue :  though  her  years  were  waning, 
Her  climacteric  teased  her  like  her  teens ; 

And  though  her  dignity  brook'd  no  complaining, 
So  much  did  Juan's  setting  off  distress  her, 

le  could  not  find  at  first  a  fit  successor. 


XLVIII. 

But  time,  the  comforter,  will  come  at  last ; 

And  four-an d-t  wen ty  hours,  and  twice  that  number 
Of  candidates  requesting  to  be  placed. 

Made  Catherine  taste  next  night  a  quiet  slumber: — 
Not  that  she  meant  to  fix  again  in  haste. 

Nor  did  she  find  the  quantity  encumber, 

ut  always  choosing  with  deliberation, 
tvept  the  place  open  for  their  emulation. 


820  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

XLIX. 

While  this  high  post  of  honour's  in  abeyance, 
For  one  or  two  days,  reader,  we  request 

You'll  mount  with  our  young  hero  the  conveyance 
Which  wafted  him  from  Petersburgh  :  the  best 

Barouche,  which  had  the  glory  to  display  once 
The  fair  czarina's  autocratic  crest. 

When,  a  new  Iphigene,  she  went  to  Tauris, 

Was  given  to  her  favourite,  (^)  and  now  hore  his. 

L. 

A  bull-dog,  and  a  bullfinch,  and  an  ermine. 
All  private  favourites  of  Don  Juan  ; — for 

(Let  deeper  sages  the  true  cause  determine) 
He  had  a  kind  of  inclination,  or 

Weakness,  for  what  most  people  deem  mere  vermin, 
Live  animals :  an  old  maid  of  threescore 

For  cats  and  birds  more  penchant  ne'er  display'd. 

Although  he  was  not  old,  nor  even  a  maid ; — 

(1)  The  empress  went  to  the  Crimea,  accompanied  by  the  Emperor 
Joseph,  in  the  year  —  I  forget  which.  —  [The  Prince  de  Ligne,  who  accom- 
panied Catherine  in  her  progress  through  her  southern  provinces,  in  1787, 
gives  the  following  particulars  :  —  "  We  have  been  traversing,  during  seve- 
ral days,  an  immense  tract  of  deserts  formerly  inhabited  by  hostile  Tartar 
hordes,  but  recovered  6y  the  arms  of  her  Majesty,  and  at  present  orna- 
mented from  stage  to  stage  with  magnificent  tents,  where  we  are  supplied 
with  breakfast,  collation,  dinner,  supper,  and  lodging ;  and  our  encamp- 
ments, decorated  with  all  the  pomp  of  Asiatic  splendour,  present  a  noble 
military  spectacle.  The  empress  has  left,  in  each  town,  presents  to  the 
amount  of  100,000  roubles.  Each  day  of  rest  is  marked  by  the  gift  of  some 
diamonds,  by  balls,  by  fireworks,  and  by  illuminations  extending  for  leagues 
in  every  direction.  During  the  last  two  months  T  have  been  daily  em- 
ployed in  throwing  money  out  of  our  carriage  windows,  and  have  thus 
distributed  the  value  of  some  millions  of  livres."  — ie«r«  et  Pensees.2 


r.NTOX.  DON    JUAN.  321 

LI. 

The  animals  aforesaid  occupied 

Their  station :  there  were  valets,  secretaries, 
In  other  vehicles ;  but  at  his  side 

Set  little  Leila,  who  survived  the  parries 
He  made  'gainst  Cossacque  sabres,  in  the  wide 

Slaughter  of  Ismail.    Though  my  wild  Muse  varies 
Her  note,  she  don't  forget  the  infant  girl 
Wliom  he  preserved,  a  pure  and  living  pearl. 


LII. 

Poor  little  thing  I  She  was  as  fair  as  docile. 
And  with  that  gentle,  serious  character. 

As  rare  in  living  beings  as  a  fossile  [Cuvier !" 

Man,    'midst    thy   mouldy   mammoths,    "  grand 

111  fitted  was  her  ignorance  to  jostle 

With  this  o'erwhelming  world,  where  all  must  err: 

But  she  was  yet  but  ten  years  old,  and  therefore 

Was  tranquil,  though  she  knew  not  why  or  wherefore. 


LIII. 

Don  Juan  loved  her,  and  she  loved  him,  as 
Nor  brother,  father,  sister,  daughter  love. 

I  cannot  tell  exactly  what  it  was  ; 

He  was  not  yet  quite  old  enough  to  prove 

Parental  feelings,  and  the  other  class, 

Call'd  brotherly  affection,  could  not  move 

His  bosom,  —  for  he  never  had  a  sister  : 

Ah  !  if  he  had,  how  much  he  would  have  miss'd  her ! 

VOL.  XVI.  Y 


322  DON   JUAN.  CANTO 

LIV. 

And  still  less  was  it  sensual ;  for  besides 
That  he  was  not  an  ancient  debauchee, 

(Who  like  sour  fruit,  to  stir  their  veins'  salt  tides, 
As  acids  rouse  a  dormant  alkali,) 

Although  ('^  will  happen  as  our  planet  guides) 
His  youth  was  not  the  chastest  that  might  be, 

There  was  the  purest  Platonism  at  bottom 

Of  all  his  feelings  —  only  he  forgot  'em. 


LV. 

Just  now  there  was  no  peril  of  temptation ; 

He  loved  the  infant  orphan  he  had  saved. 
As  patriots  (now  and  then)  may  love  a  nation ; 

His  pride,  too,  felt  that  she  was  not  enslaved 
Owing  to  him  ; — as  also  her  salvation  [paved. 

Through  his  means  and  the  church's  might  be 
But  one  thing's  odd,  which  here  must  be  inserted, 
The  little  Turk  refused  to  be  converted. 


LVI. 

'T  was  strange  enough  she  should  retain  the  impression 
Through  such  a  scene  of  change,  and  dread,  and 
slaughter ; 

But  though  three  bishops  told  her  the  transgression, 
She  show'd  a  great  dislike  to  holy  water : 

She  also  had  no  passion  for  confession ; 

Perhaps  she  had  nothing  to  confess  : — no  matter 

Whate'er  the  cause,  the  church  made  little  of  it — 

She  still  held  out  that  Mahomet  was  a  prophet. 


CANTO  X.  DON   JUAN.  323 

LVII. 

In  fact,  the  only  Christian  she  could  bear 

Was  Juan ;  whom  she  seem'd  to  have  selected 

In  place  of  what  her  home  and  friends  once  were. 
He  naturally  loved  what  he  protected : 

And  thus  they  form'd  a  rather  curious  pair, 
A  guardian  green  in  years,  a  ward  connected 

In  neither  clime,  time,  blood,  with  her  defender ; 

And  yet  this  want  of  ties  made  theirs  more  tender. 


LVIII. 

They  journey'd  on  through  Poland   and   througlv 
Warsaw, 
Famous  for  mines  of  salt  and  yokes  of  iron : 
Through  Courland  also,  which  that  famous  farce  saw 
Which  gave  her   dukes   the   graceless  name   of 
"Biron."(i) 

(I)  In  the  Empress  Anne's  time,  Biren,  her  favourite,  assumed  the  name 
and  arms  of  the  "  Birong"  of  France,  which  families  are  yet  extant  with 
that  of  England.  There  are  still  the  daughters  of  Courland  of  that  name ; 
one  of  them  I  remember  seeing  in  England  in  the  blessed  year  of  the  Allies 
(1814). —  the  Duchess  of  S.  —  to  whom  the  English  Duchess  of  Somerset  pre- 
sented me  as  a  namesake.  —  ["  Ernest  John  Biren,  become  so  famous  by 
hi*  great  advancements,  and  his  not  less  extraordinary  reverses  of  fortune, 
was  born  in  Courland,  of  a  family  of  mean  extraction.  His  grandfather 
had  been  head  groom  to  James,  the  third  Duke  of  Courland,  and  obtained 
tmta  his  master  the  present  of  a  small  estate  in  land.  ....  In  1714,  he 
made  his  appearance  at  St.  Petersburg,  and  solicited  the  place  of  page  to 
the  Princess  Charlotte,  wife  of  the  Tzarovitch  Alexey;  but  being  con. 
tcmptuously  rejected  as  a  i>erson  of  mean  extraction,  retired  to  Mittau, 
where  he  chanced  to  ingratiate  himself  with  Count  Bestucheff,  master  of 
the  household  to  Anne,  widow  of  Frederic  William  Duke  of  Courland, 
who  resided  at  Mittau.  Being  of  a  handsome  figure  and  polite  address,  he 
soon  gained  the  good-will  of  the  duchess,  and  became  her  secretary  and 
thief  favourite  On  her  being  declared  sovereign  of  Russia,  Anne  called 
Biren  to  Petersburg,  and  the  secretary  soon  became  Duke  of  Courland,  and 
first  minister  or  rather  despot  of  Russia.    On  the  death  of  Anne,  which 

Y  2 


Sif 


324?  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

*Tis  the  same  landscape  which  the  modern  Mars  saw, 
Who  march'd  to  Moscow,  led  by  Fame,  the  siren  I 
To  lose  by  one  month's  frost  some  twenty  years 
Of  conquest,  and  his  guard  of  grenadiers. 

LIX. 

Let  this  not  seem  an  anti-climax : — "  Oh !      [clay. 

My  guard !  my  old  guard  I "  ( ^ )  exclaim'd  that  god  of 
Think  of  the  Thunderer's  falling  down  below 

Carotid-artery-cutting  Castlereagh  ! 
Alas  !  that  glory  should  be  chill'd  by  snow  ! 

But  should  we  wish  to  warm  us  on  our  way 
Through  Poland,  there  is  Kosciusko's  name 
Might  scatter  fire  through  ice,  like  Hecla's  flame.  (2) 

LX. 

From  Poland  they  came  on  through  Prussia  Proper, 
And  Konigsberg  the  capital,  whose  vaunt. 

Besides  some  veins  of  iron,  lead,  or  copper. 
Has  lately  been  the  great  Professor  Kant.(^) 


happened  in  1740,  Biren,  being  declared  regent,  continued  daily  increasing 
his  vexations  and  cruelties,  till  he  was  arrested,  on  the  18th  of  December, 
only  twenty  days  after  he  had  been  appointed  to  the  regency ;  and  at 
the  revolution  that  ensued  he  was  exiled  to  the  frozen  shores  of  the  Oby." 

—  T00KE,3 

(1)  [Napoleon's  exclamation  at  the  Elys^e"  Bourbon,   June  the  23d 
1815.] 

(2)  ["  Hope  for  a  moment  bade  the  world  farewell. 

And  freedom  shriek'd  when  Kosciusko  fell." 

Campbell.] 

(3)  [Immanuel  Kant,  the  celebrated  founder  of  a  new  philosophical  sect, 
was  born  at  Konigsberg.     He  died  in  1804.] 


CANTO  X.  DON    JUAN.  325 

Juan,  who  cared  not  a  tobacco-stopper 
About  philosophy,  pursued  his  jaunt 
To  Germany,  whose  somewhat  tardy  millions 
Have  princes  who  spur  more  than  their  postilions. 


LXI. 

And  thence  through  Berlin,  Dresden,  and  the  like, 
Until  he  reach'd  the  castellated  Rhine : — 

Ye  glorious  Gothic  scenes !  how  much  ye  strike 
All  phantasies,  not  even  excepting  mine ; 

A  grey  wall,  a  green  ruin,  rusty  pike, 
Make  my  soul  pass  the  equinoctial  line 

Between  the  present  and  past  worlds,  and  hover 

Upon  their  airy  confine,  half-seas-over. 


LXII. 

But  Juan  posted  on  through  Manheim,  Bonn, 
Which  Drachenfels(i)  frowns  over  like  a  spectre 

Of  the  good  feudal  times  for  ever  gone, 

On  which  I  have  not  time  just  now  to  lecture. 

From  thence  he  was  drawn  onwards  to  Cologne, 
A  city  which  presents  to  the  inspector 

Eleven  thousand  maidenheads  of  bone, 

The  greatest  number  flesh  hath  ever  known.  (-) 

(1)  ["  The  castled  crag  of  Drachenfels 

Frowns  o'er  the  wide  and  winding  Rhine,"  &a  — 

Secants,  VoL  VIII.  p.  15C.] 

(2)  St  Ursula  and  her  eleven  thousand  virgins  were  still  extant  in  1816, 
and  may  be  so  yet,  as  much  as  ever. 

Y   3 


326  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

Lxiir. 
From  thence  to  Holland's  Hague  and  Helvoetsluys, 

That  water-land  of  Dutchmen  and  of  ditches, 
Where  juniper  expresses  its  best  juice, 

The  poor  man's  sparkling  substitute  for  riches. 
Senates  and  sages  have  condemn'd  its  use — 

But  to  deny  the  mob  a  cordial,  which  is 
Too  often  all  the  clothing,  meat,  or  fuel, 
Good  government  has  left  them,  seems  but  cruel. 


LXIV. 

Here  he  embark'd,  and  with  a  flowing  sail 
Went  bounding  for  the  island  of  the  free. 

Towards  which  the  impatient  wind  blew  half  a  gale  ; 
High  dash'd  the  spray,  the  bows  dipp'd  in  the  sea. 

And  sea-sick  passengers  turn'd  somewhat  pale  ; 
But  Juan,  season'd,  as  he  well  might  be. 

By  former  Voyages,  stood  to  watch  the  skiffs 

Which  pass'd,  or  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  the  cliffs. 


LXV. 

At  length  they  rose,  like  a  white  wall  along 
The  blue  sea's  border ;  and  Don  Juan  felt — 

What  even  young  strangers  feel  a  little  strong 
At  the  first  sight  of  Albion's  chalky  belt — 

A  kind  of  pride  that  he  should  be  among 

Those  haughty  shopkeepers,  who  sternly  dealt 

Their  goods  and  edicts  out  from  pole  to  pole. 

And  made  the  very  billows  pay  them  toll. 


CANTO  X.  DON  JUAN.  327 

LXVI. 

I've  no  great  cause  to  love  that  spot  of  earth, 
Which   holds  what  might  have  been  the   noblest 

But  though  I  owe  it  little  but  my  birth,       [nation; 
I  feel  a  mix'd  regret  and  veneration 

For  its  decaying  fame  and  former  worth. 

Seven  years  (the  usual  term  of  transportation) 

Of  absence  lay  one's  old  resentments  level. 

When  a  man's  country  's  going  to  the  devil. 


LXVII. 

Alas !  could  she  but  fully,  truly,  know 

How  her  great  name  is  now  throughout  abhorr'd; 
How  eager  all  the  earth  is  for  the  blow 

Which  shall  lay  bare  her  bosom  to  the  sword ; 
How  all  the  nations  deem  her  their  worst  foe. 

That  worse  than  worst  of  foes,  the  once  adored 
False  friend,  who  held  out  freedom  to  mankind, 
And  now  would  chain  them,  to  the  very  mind; — 


LXVIII. 

Would  she  be  proud,  or  boast  herself  the  free, 
Who  is  but  first  of  slaves  ?    The  nations  are 

In  prison, — but  the  gaoler,  what  is  he  ? 
No  less  a  victim  to  the  bolt  and  bar. 

Is  the  poor  privilege  to  turn  the  key 

Upon  the  captive,  freedom  ?     He 's  as  far 

From  the  enjoyment  of  the  earth  and  air 

Who  watches  o'er  the  chain,  as  they  who  wear. 
Y  4 


328  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

LXIX. 

Don  Juan  now  saw  Albion's  earliest  beauties, 
Thy  cliffs,  dear  Dover  !  harbour,  and  hotel ; 

Thy  custom-house,  with  all  its  delicate  duties ; 
Thy  waiters  running  mucks  at  every  bell ; 

Thy  packets,  all  whose  passengers  are  booties 
To  those  who  upon  land  or  water  dwell ; 

And  last,  not  least,  to  strangers  uninstructed. 

Thy  long,  long  bills,  whence  nothing  is  deducted. 

LXX. 

Juan,  though  careless,  young,  and  magnifique^ 
And  rich  in  rubles,  diamonds,  cash,  and  credit, 

Who  did  not  limit  much  his  bills  per  week. 

Yet  stared  at  this  a  little,  though  he  paid  it, — 

(His  Maggior  Duomo,  a  smart,  subtle  Greek, 

Before  him  summ'd  the  awful  scroll  and  read  it :) 

But  doubtless  as  the  air,  though  seldom  suhny, 

Is  free,  the  respiration's  worth  the  money. 

LXXI. 

On  with  the  horses  !  Off  to  Canterbury  ! 

Tramp,  tramp  o'er  pebble,  and  splash,  splash  through 
puddle ; 
Hurrah  !  how  swiftly  speeds  the  post  so  merry  ! 

Not  like  slow  Germany,  wherein  they  muddle 
Along  the  road,  as  if  they  went  to  bury 

Their  fare  ;  and  also  pause  besides,  to  fuddle 
With  " schnapps" — sad  dogs!  whom  "Hundsfot," or 

"  Verflucter," 
Affect  no  more  than  lightning  a  conductor. 


CANTO  I.  DON    JUAN.  329 

LXXII. 

Now  there  is  nothing  gives  a  man  such  spirits, 
Leavening  his  blood  as  cayenne  doth  a  curry, 

As  going  at  full  speed — no  matter  where  its 
Direction  be,  so  'tis  but  in  a  hurry, 

And  merely  for  the  sake  of  its  own  merits ; 
For  the  less  cause  there  is  for  all  this  flurry, 

The  greater  is  the  pleasure  in  arriving 

At  the  great  end  of  travel  —  which  is  driving. 


LXXIII. 

They  saw  at  Canterbury  the  cathedral ; 

Black  Edward's   helm,  (^)   and   Becket's  bloody 
stone,  (2) 
Were  pointed  out  as  usual  by  the  bedral. 

In  the  same  quaint,  uninterested  tone : — 
There 's  glory  again  for  you,  gentle  reader  !  All 

Ends  in  a  rusty  casque  and  dubious  bone,  (^) 
Half-solved  into  those  sodas  or  magnesias, 
Which  form  that  bitter  draught,  the  human  species. 


(1)  [On  the  tomb  of  the  prince  lies  a  whole  length  brass  figure  of  him, 
hia  armour  with  a  hood  of  mail,  and  a  scull  cap  enriched  with  a  coronet, 
which  has  been  once  studded  with  jewels,  but  only  the  collets  now  remain.] 

(2)  [Becket  was  assassinated  in  the  cathedral,  in  1171.] 

(5)  The  French  inscription  on  the  Black  Prince's  monument  is  thus 
translated  in  the  History  of  Kent :  — 

"  Whoso  thou  be  that  passcst  by 
Where  these  corps  interred  lie. 
Understand  what  I  shall  say. 
As  at  this  time  speak  I  may. 
Such  as  thou  art,  sometime  was  I. 
Such  aa  I  am,  such  shall  thou  be. 


330  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  3 

LXXIV. 

The  effect  on  Juan  was  of  course  sublime  : 

He  breathed  a  thousand  Cressys,  as  he  saw- 
That  casque,  which  never  stoop'd  except  to  Time. 

Even  the  bold  Churchman's  tomb  excited  awe, 
Who  died  in  the  then  great  attempt  to  cUmb 

O'er  kings,  who  now  at  least  must  talk  of  law 
Before  they  butcher.     Little  Leila  gazed, 
And  asked  why  such  a  structure  had  been  raised : 


LXXV. 

And  being  told  it  was  "  God's  house,"  she  said 
He  was  well  lodged,  but  only  wonder'd  how 

He  suffer'd  Infidels  in  his  homestead, 
The  cruel  Nazarenes,  who  had  laid  low 

His  holy  temples  in  the  lands  which  bred 
The  True  Believers  ; — and  her  infant  brow 

Was  bent  with  grief  that  Mahomet  should  resign 

A  mosque  so  noble,  flung  like  pearls  to  swine. 


*  I  little  thought  on  the  hour  of  death 
So  long  as  I  enjoyed  breath. 
Great  riches  here  I  did  possess. 
Whereof  I  made  great  nobleness  ; 
I  had  gold,  silver,  wardrobes,  and 
Great  treasures,  horses,  houses,  land. 
But  now  a  caitiff  poor  am  I, 
Deep  in  the  ground,  lo  here  I  liej 
My  beauty  great  is  all  quite  gone, 
My  flesh  is  wasted  to  the  bone; 
And  if  you  should  see  me  this  day, 
I  do  not  think  but  you  would  say. 
That  I  had  never  been  a  man. 
So  much  alter'd  now  I  am.  "J 


cxsjo  X.  DON   JUAN.  331 

LXXVI. 

On!  on!  through  meadows,  managed  like  a  garden, 
A  paradise  of  hops  and  high  production ; 

For  after  years  of  travel  by  a  bard  in 

Countries  of  greater  heat,  but  lesser  suction, 

A  green  field  is  a  sight  which  makes  him  pardon 
The  absence  of  that  more  sublime  construction ! 

Which  mixes  up  vines,  olives,  precipices, 

Glaciers,  volcanos,  oranges,  and  ices. 


LXXVII. 

And  when  I  think  upon  a  pot  of  beer 

But  I  won't  weep  ! — and  so  drive  on,  postilions  J 

As  the  smart  boys  spurr'd  fast  in  their  career, 
Juan  admired  these  highways  of  free  millions ; 

A  country  in  all  senses  the  most  dear 

To  foreigner  or  native,  save  some  silly  ones. 

Who  "  kick  against  the  pricks"  just  at  this  juncture, 

And  for  their  pains  get  only  a  fresh  puncture. 


LXXVIII. 

What  a  delightful  thing's  a  turnpike  road  I 
So  smooth,  so  level,  such  a  mode  of  shaving 

The  earth,  as  scarce  the  eagle  in  the  broad 

Air  can  accomplish,  with  his  wide  wings  waving. 

Had  such  been  cut  in  Phaeton's  time,  the  god 
Had  told  his  son  to  satisfy  his  craving 

With  the  York  mail ; — but  onward  as  we  roll, 

"  Surgit  amari  aliquid" — the  toll  I 


332  DON    JUAN.  CANTO  X. 

LXXIX. 

Alas  I  how  deeply  painful  is  all  payment !     [purses. 

Take  lives,  take  wives,  take  aught  except  men's 
As  Machiavel  shows  those  in  purple  raiment. 

Such  is  the  shortest  way  to  general  curses. 
They  hate  a  murderer  much  less  than  a  claimant 

On  that  sweet  ore  which  every  body  nurses. — 
Kill  a  man's  family,  and  he  may  brook  it. 
But  keep  your  hands  out  of  his  breeches'  pocket : 

LXXX. 

So  said  the  Florentine  :  ye  monarchs,  hearken 
To  your  instructor.     Juan  now  was  borne, 

Just  as  the  day  began  to  wane  and  darken. 

O'er  the  high  hill,  which  looks  with  pride  or  scorn 

Toward  the  great  city. — Ye  who  have  a  spark  in 
Your  veins  of  Cockney  spirit,  smile  or  mourn 

According  as  you  take  things  well  or  ill ; — 

Bold  Britons,  we  are  now  on  Shooter's  Hill  IQ) 

LXXXI. 

The  sun  went  down,  the  smoke  rose  up,  as  from 
A  half-unquench'd  volcano,  o'er  a  space 

Which  well  beseem'd  the  "  Devil's  drawing-room," 
As  some  have  qualified  that  wondrous  place : 

(1)  ["  Under  his  proud  survey  the  city  lies. 

And  like  a  mist  beneath  a  hill  doth  rise, 

Whose  state  and  wealth,  the  business  and  the  crowd. 

Seem  at  this  distance  but  a  darker  cloud. 

And  is,  to  him  who  rightly  things  esteems. 

No  other  in  effect  than  what  it  seems ; 

Where,  with  like  haste,  tho'  several  ways  they  run. 

Some  to  undo,  and  some  to  be  undone ; 

While  luxury  and  wealth,  like  war  and  peace. 

Are  each  the  other's  ruin  and  increase."  —  Denoam,] 


(  ASTO  X.  DON    JUAN.  333 

But  Juan  felt,  though  not  approaching  home, 

As  one  who,  though  he  were  not  of  the  race, 
Revered  the  soil,  of  those  true  sons  the  mother. 
Who  butcher'd  half  the  earth,  and  bullied  t'  other.  (^ ) 

LXXXII. 

A  mighty  mass  of  brick,  and  smoke,  and  shipping, 

Dirty  and  dusky,  but  as  wide  as  eye 
Could  reach,  with  here  and  there  a  sail  just  skipping 

In  sight,  then  lost  amidst  the  forestry 
Of  masts ;  a  wilderness  of  steeples  peeping 

On  tiptoe  through  their  sea-coal  canopy  ; 
A  huge,  dun  cupola,  like  a  foolscap  crown 
On  a  fool's  head — and  there  is  London  Town ! 

LXXXIII. 

But  Juan  saw  not  this  :  each  wreath  of  smoke 
Appear'd  to  him  but  as  the  magic  vapour 

Of  some  alchymic  furnace,  from  whence  broke 
The  wealth  of  worlds  (a  wealth  of  tax  and  paper)  : 

The  gloomy  clouds,  which  o'er  it  as  a  yoke 
Are  bow'd,  and  put  the  sun  out  like  a  taper^ 

Were  nothing  but  the  natural  atmosphere. 

Extremely  wholesome,  though  but  rarely  clear. 

LXXXIV. 

He  paused — and  so  will  I;  as  doth  a  crew 
Before  they  give  their  broadside.     By  and  by, 

My  gentle  countrymen,  we  will  renew 

Our  old  acquaintance  ;  and  at  least  I'll  try 

(1)  [India;  America.] 


334<  DON   JUAN. 


CANTO  X. 


To  tell  you  truths  you  will  not  take  as  true, 

Because  they  are  so;  —  a  male  Mrs.  Fry,  Q) 
With  a  soft  besom  will  I  sweep  your  halls, 
And  brush  a  web  or  two  from  off  the  walls. 

LXXXV. 

Oh  Mrs.  Fry  I    Wliy  go  to  Newgate  ?    Why 

Preach  to  poor  rogues  ?  And  wherefore  not  begin 

With  Carlton,  or  with  other  houses  ?    Try 
Your  hand  at  harden'd  and  imperial  sin. 

To  mend  the  people's  an  absurdity, 
A  jargon,  a  mere  philanthropic  din^ 

Unless  you  make  their  betters  better :  — Fy ! 

I  thought  you  had  more  religion,  Mrs.  Fry. 

LXXXVI. 

Teach  them  the  decencies  of  good  threescore ; 

Cure  them  of  tours,  hussar  and  highland  dresses ,' 
Tell  them  that  youth  once  gone  returns  no  more, 

That  hired  huzzas  redeem  no  land's  distresses  ; 
Tell  them  Sir  William  Curtis  (-)  is  a  bore. 

Too  dull  even  for  the  dullest  of  excesses, 
The  witless  FalstafF  of  a  hoary  Hal, 
A  fool  whose  bells  have  ceased  to  ring  at  all. 

LXXXVI  I. 

Tell  them,  though  it  may  be  perhaps  too  late 
On  life's  worn  confine,  jaded,  bloated,  sated. 

To  set  up  vain  pretences  of  being  great, 
'Tis  not  so  to  be  good  ;  and  be  it  stated, 

(1)  [The  Quaker  lady,  whose  benevolent  exertions  have  effected  so  great 
a  change  in  the  condition  of  the  female  prisoners  in  Newgate.] 

(2)  CThis  worthy  alderman  died  in  1S29J 


CANTO  X.  DON   JUAN.  335 

The  worthiest  kings  have  ever  loved  least  state ; 

And  tell  them Butyou  won't,  and  I  have  prated 

Just  now  enough  ;  but  by  and  by  I'll  prattle 
Like  Roland's  horn(i)  in  Roncesvalles'  battle. 


(1)  ["  O  for  a  blast  of  that  dread  horn, 

On  Fontarabian  echoes  borne. 

That  to  King  Charles  did  come. 
When  Rowland  brave,  and  Olivier, 
And  every  paladin  and  peer, 

On  Roncesvalles  died."  —  Marmion.2 


END    OF    THE    SIXTEENTH    VOLUME. 


London : 

Printed  by  A.  &  R.  Spottiswoode, 
New-Street-Square. 


O 


»II^UIIXU 


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1832 

V.16 


Byron,   George  Gordon  Noel  By: 
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